malibu

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.

“Like that’ll ever happen,” said Dolly…

Not the first time Dolly has been hurtful. A certifiable furvert, she has historically been willing to slum it with me on Valentine’s Day.

How many Valentine's Days ago was this? Dolly says she can't remember it ever having happened, and that I have "mad Photoshop skills."

How many Valentine’s Days ago was this? Of this photo Dolly says, “LB, you have mad Photoshop skills.”

Say what she will, Dolly has occasionally gone in for some snuggles. But lately so many new bears have entered the house that my chances of winning her back are nil. Even the elementary school is sending home bears for sleepovers…big bears who are really furry—not “matted, mangy, and alcoholic” and who “don’t smell like liver failure.”

So my Valentine’s Day wish is a little less romantic now.

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But still hopeful.

ASTROLIQUOR for October 26 to November 1—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, you’re back to your pissed-off self, and some poor sap is irritating you. He/she isn’t even doing anything! It’s all you, Aries, so get your anger management on. Mellow out with some apple brandy or rum. Call a Capricorn friend to chat (don’t yell). Buy a small present for someone. Whatever you do, stay away from rowdy bars; you don’t need any more stitches.

Taurus, you’ll have a three-way with a married couple on your next holiday, a moral lapse preceded this week by an unfortunate mixture of Jagermeister, Monster, Sunny D, and root beer. This combo makes you lose your mind and throw away all your discretion, paving the way for a holiday orgy so publicly lewd that you’ll never live it down. Nice going.

You’re preoccupied with mating this week, Gemini, and love is optional. Another Gemini grabs your attention, but you don’t have much luck with same-sign hook-ups. This one’s no exception; it will fizzle quickly, leaving your mind abuzz with prickly resentment. Nothing helps this problem more than Wild Turkey with Drambuie.

Cancer, your calendar feels packed, but is your problem a full dance card or just disorganization? If you take a look you’ll realize you’re not planning properly. You’re saying yes to every trivial thing that comes up and letting people waste your time. No wonder you have no time to get loaded. Take time out for a luxury Champagne this week and tell everyone to get stuffed.

Leo, the stars are vaguely predicting an enriching experience for you…say, sometime in the next three weeks. Expect to become more attuned—not just to your five senses but to the paranormal. The portal to enlightenment is, perhaps predictably, Blue Curacao with Malibu. Although you’ll perceive all kinds of crazy shit this week, your mental state is surprisingly healthy.

Melon liqueur, white creme de cacao, and milk. Your mixology continues to reveal a slight mental imbalance, Virgo. Consider hitting the psychiatrist’s couch, taking up yoga, or getting on a plane to Tibet. Or maybe just go and observe the People of Walmart. They won’t harm you and they’ll probably go out for drinks with you. Open your mind.

Libra, the stars like you this week. You have a lot of influence over people, which increases your social sphere. Ties with your partner are strong, with Thursday your best day for communication. Your power week takes you to the heights and then drops you like a rock. You descend into a binge featuring red wine and vodka—combined. Yikes, the stars are mean.

Someone is pressuring you, Scorpio, but you don’t have to give in. Did you give in when they told you not to make a big vat of white rum, tequila, peach schnapps, triple sec, and Bacardi 151? Did you give in when they said you couldn’t have that big vat in the office lunchroom? Did you give in when they said you couldn’t sleep beside the photocopier? Hell, no.

Sagittarius, your work is in the doldrums and you don’t know why. (It’s boring.) Your brain checks out of meetings, pondering cocktail onions and the comparative merits of sweet and dry vermouth. Perhaps you should talk to your colleagues. They might be able to make your days more interesting, or at least recommend a good gin for your flask.

You’ll have a drastic change of opinion about a work project, Capricorn. You’re horrified at how sluggish your pace has been, the slackers who surround you, and the dried vomit in your third drawer down. This is what happens when you do the unthinkable, Capricorn. You’ve dried out, and the world looks ugly. But at least you can be the DD for your friends.

Aquarius, there’s no use freaking out at coworkers, even if one of them is trying to destroy you. Half the time they’re just as messed up as you—riding the highs and lows between gin-and-tonics and Red Bull. Level out your brain chemicals with some solid food. If you hold it together for the work week, Sunday won’t let you down. But keep your eyes trained at work for that backstabber!

Pisces, a not-unexpected meeting occurs this week. It’s one of those dreadful interventions in which your most beloved relatives and friends tell you what a douche you are. They’ve made a big gathering of it; they’ve got hors d’oeuvres and somebody’s carved pineapples and bananas into special shapes. Your head hurts from this outpouring of love and self-righteousness. But it’s better than that time you spent a night in jail after pissing against a wall.