humour

Bah!

My Fellow Inebriates,

The last year at LBHQ has been like a country music song. My blog has deteriorated to a shadow of its former, pester-you-daily self, and our drinking has indeed subsided to the dull roar my parents had threatened it would. About a hundred beanie boos, including a frighteningly large owl, have invaded the house, leaving no quarter for bears. All our household electronics are on the fritz, including the entertainment room projector, and our inability to zone out in front of an action movie has turned my friend Scarybear (being at loose ends) into more of a threat than usual. And to top it off, Facebook deactivated my account because—get this—I’m not real.

Sometimes I stare into space all day; sometimes I collapse into a little crumpled, furry ball.

Which makes Valentine’s Day downright unwelcome, my fellow inebriates. Especially given that my girlfriend Dolly says I may never refer to her as that, even in the past tense. And so, for all my fellow misfits who have no liquor and no snuggles (again), here are a few pictures.

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fail valentine 4

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CZECHVAR for St. Paddy’s Day? Why not?

Today I am recommending a run-of-the-mill, somewhat hoppy and refreshing but basically Euroskunk lager.

Why?

Because it’s St. Patrick’s Day, and if you get some godforsaken notion today that you have to dye your beer green, you’d best choose a light beer instead of pouring all your mother’s Nutty Club green food colouring into a Guinness. With CZECHVAR you’ll only need a few drops, and the beer’s so mundane and uninspiring that you won’t feel you’ve wrecked it when that green tint starts grossing you out a few minutes after you’ve done the deed.

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CZECHVAR is actually made by Anheuser-Busch, which explains a lot. A quintessential summer beer, it’s slightly hoppy and very fizzy, and it emanates a faint eau de Heineken.

Is it fitting for St. Patrick’s Day? Probably not, but on a day when one-quarter of all North Americans purport to have Irish blood, we can hardly get our underwear in a knot about drinking Czech beer. Personally, I’m going to pound this mediocre CZECHVAR for breakfast, get into some cheap Canadian rye for lunch, and then break into the mescal with the (green?) worm in it. By the end of it, for all intents and purposes, I’ll be green and possibly hallucinating leprechauns. And that, my fellow inebriates, is what March 17 is all about.

ASTROLIQUOR for Feb. 15–21—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Gear up for some excitement, Aries—maybe a housewrecker party or a night of bar-hopping. You’ll be out all night and end up conflating breakfast with, well, more drinking. Try blending up a cup of banana schnapps with some bananas for a wholesome breakfast. While you’re replenishing your potassium and blood-alcohol percentage, why not email that Leo you had the one-night stand with last year? He/she will be delighted to hear from you, especially in your condition.

Taurus, you’re due for an ignominious week. Expect to break a lot of bottles…a lot. Be stoic when someone attacks you for your recklessness; the criticism is less about you than it is about this douchebag’s own unhappy life. If he/she pounded the orange vodka and Cointreau the way you do, life would be sunny. Someone will make you an appealing offer this week. Lay off the vodka briefly so you can consider it—it might be too good to be true.

A friend needs you again, Gemini, but you just don’t feel like helping. Ordinarily you’re good at navigating such situations, but this particular friend gets you with a brainful of Malibu and, well, you just don’t care. The person seeking help feels very bonded to you emotionally and will be offended when you ignore the pleas, so you may have to employ some diplomacy later. That or just pour yourself some more Malibu.

The pressure continues, Cancer. Not only are your finances still #&*%^#—so are your mental faculties. Just when you think you understand a difficult concept, it slips away. Losing one’s mental capacity is one of the most frightening prospects anyone can face, especially if it wasn’t any hell to begin with. Consider visiting the doctor or, if you just don’t want to know for sure, maintain a constant buzz. How about gin, Malibu, and sour apple liqueur? That should keep prevent your remaining neurons from worrying.

Leo, you’ll get a very lucrative monetary offer, job offer, or maybe just a sales flyer from your favorite store. Listen to your emotions as you make your decision. Whether you end up taking the deal, refusing it, or just blowing all your cash at Walmart, make sure you have enough left to stock your bar. You’re running out of vanilla liqueur and probably a whack of other important liquor-store items. The stars want you to mix the liqueur with orange juice and milk. I say just drink it straight.

What happens when you combine Corona with tequila and grenadine at work, Virgo? You may just end up getting a raise, as your brash, uninhibited self takes over from your mousy daytime personality and wows your boss. Especially if your boss is an Aquarius, the stars say do it. If that doesn’t work out (and let’s face it, some people consider tequila and work incompatible),  you’ll probably end up winning some lottery cash. But don’t spend it all! The stars are malevolent about your finances in April.

Libra, a natural disaster has you in its sights. Water may well be involved, so take whatever precautions occur to you. Of course, the stars may be exaggerating—you might just have your toilet back up after your five-year-old feeds an entire roll of toilet paper to it. Either way, you’ll need to stock up on liquor. Put that crazy kid to bed and mix this number:

  • 4 parts Hypnotiq
  • 4 parts gin
  • 2 parts tequila
  • 8 parts pineapple juice (optional)
  • 8 parts Sprite (optional)

Make sure you’re well prepared for any conferences you attend this week, Scorpio. In the past you’ve arrived with a flask of gin and Dr. Pepper and only barely managed to comport yourself. Afterwards when the meeting minutes got circulated, the whole thing seemed new to you—especially the bits with that clown who made all the asinine comments. The stars don’t insist on 100% sobriety for work; but they don’t want you to be totally embarrassed either, so find the right balance.

Sagittarius, your computer will act up this week; you’ll suspect a virus, and you’re actually due for one considering all the porn you’ve been downloading, but the real problem is your computer’s age. You don’t have the greatest head for troubleshooting, especially while lit up with vodka and vermouth. Try to resist the urge to throw the whole rig out the window, cinematic as that might be. Don’t shoot at it either. Just get some fresh air and/or more vodka.

No nitpicking for you this week, Capricorn. Examining things minutely only leads to misery and subverts decision making. Your intuition is a better guide than intense analysis. If you can’t inhibit your inner critic, dose it with tequila and peach schnapps. On another note entirely, try not to be jealous. Again, tequila will help.

Aquarius, you border on stalking when it comes to a certain Leo. Other people are noticing and becoming increasingly uncomfortable with your inappropriate behavior. What you need is a diversion. Find a big jug and fill it with 3 parts Malibu, 6 parts cognac, and 6 parts Jim Beam. This is a great way to forget about Leos, and anything else for that matter.

Pisces, a friend from old times will email this week with shocking news. Refrain from responding right away; you’re far too pickled in banana rum to be judging your friend. If you can’t resist hitting the “send” button, be prepared to fix a damaged relationship or even retract what you’ve said. All of which is typical for Pisces any week, regardless of celestial influence. But don’t say the stars didn’t try to help!