By Melissa Hunter
Here is Wonderwall's latest batch of exclusive recipes for enjoying your favorite stars, straight up or on the rocks.
Miley Mudslide: Mix two ounces of adolescence with three ounces of premature adulthood. Cautiously pour five ounces Southern charm and kooky personality through a Disney-manufactured strainer, removing any traces of individuality and free will. Add a splash of quirky (and potentially offensive) teenage rebellion. Pour all contents into a blender until contents appear to be pure liquid gold. Serve in a mason jar and drink until you feel sufficiently queasy yet oddly satisfied.
Warning: Do not drink after 10 years, as it will go bad and turn into a train wreck.
Brangelini Surprise: In cocktail shaker, combine two parts perfect DNA with seven parts babies (add a few more for good measure). Carefully and deliberately add in equal parts high-profile charity donations and extremely lavish spending. Shake well with every scandal you can contrive and pour into a crystal flute. Add a few drops of fake Jennifer Aniston tears to taste. Garnish with an "eye witness report." Sell the swill to a tabloid reporter.
Lambertini: In a completely translucent martini glass, combine five ounces of black eyeliner, three ounces of pomade, and an ounce of blue hair dye. Combine with a tireless amount of speculation and a liberal heaping of the obvious. Add record executive drool to taste. Garnish with a gold record from the future. Drink a few and try to remember the name of the dude who actually won American Idol.
Tila Tequila Sunrise: Two parts publicity stunts. Ten parts silicone. Three parts tequila (obvi). Drop in a few attention-grabbing tweets. Slip in a roofie, just for kicks. Remove any traces of modesty, shame, or loving childhood attention from its father. Pour into one of those cheap plastic beakers. Shoot four of them, strip on the bar, pole dance, make out with chicks, and see if you can snag a Life & Style exclusive.
Lime Mickey: In a bucket, combine fake tanner, hair dye, Chihuahua drool, Muscle Milk, and a bottle of moonshine. Add a splash of wrestling sweat and shake until properly disoriented from a major comeback. Add your last ounce of dignity. Drop in a pinch of dust from your Oscar-less cabinet. Serve at a nightclub where the beverage would look particularly out of place.
Bruno Blaster: Mix three parts leopard thongs with a thousand parts class-action law suits. Shake well with overt sexuality and mass homophobia. Shake up with faux Austrian accent, extreme sass, nude magazine cover shoots, and the outrage and curiosity of millions. Stir with your advance checks from opening weekend. Pour into Eminem's navel, do a body shot and run like hell. Consult your lawyers immediately.
Barton Alexander: In a delicate (read: frail) glass, combine equal parts bronzer and hair bleach. Add in black nail polish, black eyeliner, pleather, and bang trimmings, stirring with the arm of a Ray Ban until it appears to have a healthy faux hipster shade. Let sit on a red carpet or front row at a fashion show until sufficiently atrophied. Serve exclusively to CW executives, as those are the only people who seem to buy it.
Johnny Collins: Mix one part private Bahamian island seawater, two parts Caribbean Disney pirate water, and three parts perfection. Mix with bourbon, cognac, or any other classy yet manly beverage you can find. Top off with the Oscar bait of your choice. Sprinkle mustache trimmings in to taste. Pour into a crystal goblet and toast your general godliness.
Note: For full enjoyment, please ensure your hair is grown to its greatest cool-dude length.
Heidiweiss Spritzer: In an inexplicably tall cocktail shaker, pour two ounces of an incomprehensible German accent with three ounces of lovable spunk. Add a generous amount of love from Seal, haute couture designers, and America and shake until it's sufficiently bubbly. Top with one teaspoon of brown-nosing syrup strained from aspiring designers. Pour into a rose-colored glass.
Shia LaBrew:In a blender, combine a generous amount of vodka, pot brownies, and interview overshares. Blend while reading the first three pages of a few tent-pole studio movie scripts. Throw the ones you don't like into the blender. Pour over crushed Transformer robots (don't worry, they'll regenerate). Wrap bottle in a paper bag, drink while walking down the street, and hope no one notices.
Oedipal Warning: Consumption of this beverage may make you find our mom sexy.