Kahlua

ASTROLIQUOR for March 22 to 28, already in progress—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Your booze horoscope is going all to hell, the way I can’t manage to round up a typist, week after week. And here you are, making all sorts of decisions without astrological guidance, which makes me feel like an absolute bastard. Even if you are getting along fine without it (are you? omg, don’t tell me, it got me out of bed today)…here it is:

Aries, do not listen to any Journey songs this week, especially the ballads. They’ll get you down and make you feel lonely, plus the neighbors won’t appreciate the sound of you moaning out the window like a sick Steve Perry. They’ll suspect you’re constipated and peer inside, only to get an eyeful of you lurching around in filthy underwear sporting stains of Kahlua, Bailey’s, Cointreau, and who knows what.

Taurus, you’ll get a letter from the bank this week increasing your credit limit—and you didn’t even have to ask! How lucky is that? Now you can take an online course (what about currency trading?), expand your tequila collection, or visit some betting sites and leverage that illusory new windfall. But don’t compromise your principles! Don’t sell out to anyone! Every shooter you drink this week should have a gummy worm in it.

Gemini, when you receive unexpected praise from someone, you find yourself liking that person a whole lot more than is warranted and, more importantly, letting down your guard. Beware! Find a Scorpio you trust and go for a long walk. Explain everything and then wait for your Scorpio friend to serve you up some harsh truth about those insincere compliments and the douchebag who delivered them so blithely. The truth will hurt, and you’ll want vodka. Mix it with amaretto and Kahlua so you look like a connoisseur, not an alcoholic.

Cancer, you might experience a psychotic break this week. In retrospect you’ll realize it was all your fault (well, you and bourbon). In the aftermath your mind will go off on all sorts of tangents. One particular obsession will be the future (1000+ years); you foresee being able to manipulate lottery numbers and make yourself rich, but only if you can cryogenically freeze your head, which sounds like a chicken-and-egg problem. Spend your money on gin instead.

Leo, all kinds of things happen when you combine Jagermeister with Mountain Dew, but earning more money is not one of them. Take steps to create an income source. The lottery might win you a few bucks, but it won’t supply a comprehensive answer. Nope—you might have to actually work. Start networking; even if it doesn’t make the cash pour in, you’ll meet someone, and by August you’ll have seen their underwear.

As a Virgo you’re good at playing your cards close to your chest. Most of your most weirdo secrets will stay with you until you die, but don’t let secrecy get in the way of relationships. You’ll meet a “friend for life” this week (Leo or Taurus), so try and open up a bit. This will help:

  • 3 oz rum
  • 1 oz sloe gin
  • 1 oz Southern Comfort
  • 1 oz peach schnapps
  • Orange juice to taste (I’m having “none”)

Libra, give your brain a rest this week; it’s getting confused. Try not to multi-task—let’s face it, your resumé may say you can do it but you can’t pee and wipe your nose at the same time without an accident. Plan a holiday (carefully! make a list) or at least stock up on limoncello and vodka and have a mental holiday. Ahhhh!

Mars is exerting some apeshit influence on your chart, Scorpio. Try not to throw a punch at relatives or colleagues this week, and be nice to that friend who needs your advice. It concerns embarrassing personal stuff (the stars say money problems, or maybe something to do with genitals), and if you react kindly, you’ll bank some good karma. In other news, you have an undeterrable stalker (it’s a Cancer—don’t give this person any vodka).

Sagittarius, electronics will give you grief this week. Read the manual(s) before beating the shit out of your computer or toaster oven. Your dishwasher will fail several times to get a dried noodle off one of your pots. The stars have no solution for this, although they recommend Gordon’s gin (for you, not the Jet Dry compartment). Tuesday and Thursday are good for love and nudity.

Somebody’s gotta do it, Capricorn, and this week you are the designated driver. You’ll spend many evenings watching drunken friends get extraordinary amusement out of stupid board games, stupid movies, and yes—barfing in your car. If this sounds thankless, the stars apologize. You don’t have to listen to them; they are just balls of gas. They have no idea what Stoli vomit does to upholstery.

Aquarius, someone who’s gone unnoticed until recently becomes a hot-and-heavy love interest. Be careful! This person is a freak. Don’t mistake eroticism for ice-cold insanity; the stars are worried you could end up getting shivved with a broken bottle. Ease up on the vodka and keep your wits about you.

Pisces, you’re out of work again and you feel sorry for yourself. But your friends are jealous…spring is here and you’re free. Wake up whatever-the-hell-o’clock appeals to you, get the coffee going, and spike it up with Bacardi 151 and Kahlua. Have a few mugs and then phone your old boss.

ASTROLIQUOR for February 22 to March 1, already in progress

My  Fellow Inebriates,

You’ve been operating three days now without a booze horoscope and, while I would never say you’re drinking the wrong beverages, the stars are assholish and would rather you did their bidding. Now, if only the stars could get my typist to generate a horoscope on time. Apparently my parents are too busy “working for money” to rescue my paws from a near-impossible typing chore.

Aries:

Melon liqueur and tequila means spring is coming (unless you live down under, in which case, drink it anyway). Add some grapefruit juice, a lime slice, and a cherry. Complete meal.

Taurus:

Got 1.75 L of Everclear? You might if you don’t live in Canada (sigh). Jack that shit up with Red Bull, Country Tyme, and 24 cans of cheap hockey beer. Take Monday off work.

Gemini:

Grapefruit soda goes great with Beefeater. But Beefeater’s even better by itself.

Cancer:

You get to be the designated driver this week. Don’t worry, I know how it feels—LBHQ is dry right now.

Leo:

Why eat blueberry muffins when you can combine blueberry and vanilla vodka? That’s breakfast, all week long.

Virgo:

You deserve some rich, boozy dessert: Kahlua, vodka, and Bailey’s, blended up with some actual ice cream, milk, and ice. OMG, that sounds good, especially without the ice cream, milk, and ice.

Libra:

Another elaborate and silly drink for you. Hollow out some kind of tropical fruit. Fill it with amaretto, rum, and pineapple juice (that’s it! use the pineapple).

Scorpio:

It’s a boozy week and we need another designated driver. Tag, you’re it! You get to drink a nice wholesome milkshake while watching pals get pissed.

Sagittarius:

The stars like to experiment on you, Sag. Equal parts Bailey’s, Blue Curacao, and Pernod. OMG, what the hell will that even look like?

Capricorn:

The stars double-dare you this week. Firewater cinnamon schnapps + Tequila Rose strawberry cream liqueur = hell knows what. Lucky you.

Aquarius:

Bacardi with random juice for you. How about raspberry and orange? Another fine breakfast.

Pisces:

I just discovered they make root beer schnapps. Exactly why, who knows, but the stars want you to mix it up with Orange Crush, take your swampwater to a movie, and make a public nuisance of yourself. In other words, the usual.

ASTROLIQUOR for Feb. 8–14—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, it’s not an Absinthe-induced hallucination: someone you once briefly groped in a public restroom wants to see you again—years later. This may gratify your ego, but it should also remind you to have a wash. You can’t marinate in sambuca for a decade and expect that it won’t erupt from your fur pores. More importantly, after all this time you don’t know anything about your old fling. OMG, what star sign are you dealing with? Start creeping on Facebook and learn whatever you can; your reunion is in March.

Taurus, you usually figure out when someone’s going to prank you, but this week you have your head up your ass and miss the cues. That’s what comes of a headful of rum/Amaretto/Jagermeister, but it sure is worth it, although like Aries, you may want to investigate the bathtub a little more often. Not that I’d blame you if you didn’t—but the stars are calling for “hook-ups on public transit” this week.

Take extra precautions this week, Gemini, in terms of both the banal (eat “healthy”) and the exotic (stay out of lightning storms). Translation: no cream in your Kahlua/no naked streaking through a stormy field. Further translation: the stars aren’t going to let you do shit this week. The small consolation is that, if you end up getting hit by a car, the driver will be attractive.

Cancer, if a Scorpio offers you help with a project, accept it. Scorpios are shrewder than Cancers, even if they don’t have the patience to mix a  chocolate martini. You might be the exception, but then again you might not, so take the help because it will pay off big-time, and the stars aren’t doing anything for you with the lottery.

Leo, you get political this week, which is a refreshing change for the friends who’ve had to watch you lurch around on a whisky-and-chartreuse bender. Find a cause and pursue it, but don’t expect too many people to follow you; they’re not used to you being able to walk straight, never mind leading a movement. Make sure you ignore all criticism this week.

Virgo, your mission this week is to bar-hop until you find some interesting new friends. Choose the most superficial people you can find; you’ll have more fun that way, and they’ll be open-minded about rum-and-vodka breakfasts. Remember: it all starts with getting out of bed. If you don’t get out of your jammies, you won’t have any fun this week, and you might end up watching a bunch of philosophy lectures on YouTube.

Libra, although you feel social this week, you don’t feel like being honest. This won’t improve your standing with friends—they’ll know perfectly well you’re talking a load of vodka-fueled crap and cast you out of their circle for douchebaggery. Maybe you should stick to large groups of relative strangers and talk about neutral topics rather than poisoning existing friendships. Or you could just create some kind of internet identity and talk crap that way. (OMG! who would do that?)

Your relationship is feeling very serious, Scorpio. Right now it seems impervious to sexual rivalry—not just because your partner’s devoted to you, but because you have eyes for no other. But look out; you know how the stars like to mess with that shit. A Cancer will need your help with a project (finding the perfect proportion of Bacardi Peach and Southern Comfort, perhaps), and although this Cancer isn’t very smart, he/she will make your knees weak. So look out, Scorpio—by Sunday night all your stuff could be on the lawn.

Sagittarius, some heavy shit happens to your relationship and/or finances and you have to live outside for a while. You’ll have to read this horoscope at the library (don’t forget!), and you may want to invest in a flask or portable bar. Before you get kicked out of your home, make sure you grab some triple sec, vodka, and grenadine. Go out with class.

Pressure is building in your head, Capricorn, so make sure you go apeshit on the weekend with some tropical drinks. Think Malibu, Captain Morgan, Kahlua, and a bucket of pina colada mix. Then you’ll need to go outside, possibly naked, and find new friends. Your body will appreciate being unfettered by pent-up hostility and clothing.

Aquarius, this is the perfect week to redecorate and make your home more comfy. Be sure to shop for furnishings before you slam a blenderful of spiced rum, Blue Curacao, and Bacardi 151, though—your taste in home decor is markedly different when you’re not slurring your words, and you’ll end up spending less money. Bonus: the IKEA staff won’t have to call the police.

Pisces, a personal problem distracts you this week from helping others. Friends think you’re being a dick, but you’re really just mooning over an impossible crush. If you let this consume you, you won’t be able to help a dear friend who really needs you right now. Of course you’re not that useful anyway when you’re full-to-the-eyeballs with dark rum and Frangelico.