Beast Banner August 2007
ISSUE #118
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Features

ArrowThe Avalanche Threat
No one is safe!
Allan Uthman

ArrowMr BEAST Goes to Washington
Power to the people, or something like it
Ian Murphy

ArrowGreat Moments in Fascist Punditry

ArrowSlippery When Wet
Al Gore, an inconvenient douche
Paul Fallon

ArrowAnts in a Jar
It's only the end of the world, so quit bitching

Joe Bageant

ArrowRah Rah Sis Boom AAAAAHH!
Text "dead cheerleaders" for relentless media coverage
Steve Gordon

ArrowDog Day
Wiener Binging at the Nathan's Famous Hot Dog Contest
Andrew Blake

ArrowInterview with the Editor's Uncle

ArrowThe Second "Scoop"
Reflogging Palast and Perkins

A Monkey

Departments

ArrowThe Beast Page 3
Headless Pharmaceutical Mascot

ArrowKino Kwikees: Movie Trailer Reviews

ArrowBEAST-O-Scopes
Your completely accurate horoscope

[sic] - Letters

  The BEAST Page 5

Headless Pharmaceutical Mascot

Name:  Johnny “Snake Eyes” Mirapex.

Turn-Ons:  Restless legs, Parkinson’s, vaguely defined “syndromes,” abstract forms, deregulated drug advertising, the FDA, disconcerting side effects, increased gambling, and compulsive sexual behavior.

Turn-Offs:  Exercise, meditation, heads, torsos, healthy living, monogamy, savings accounts, and my child’s future.

How I got to be the Beast Page 5 Headless Pharmaceutical Mascot:  It was just another all-night poker marathon at my buddy’s place. Maybe you know him—Pedro the Nasonex bee? Everyone else was out; it was just me and him. Pedro’s numerous legs were twitching. Not me. I played it cool. I had 2 aces showing, and 2 in hand. I went in for my house, my car—everything. I was tapped. So this “BEAST” guy across the table from me says he’d bank me, but if I lose the hand I have to do his “bidding.” Needless to say that clear-nosed Mexican pollen-sucker was holding a goddamned royal flush. I’m a headless pharmaceutical mascot of my word, so when The BEAST called on me to collect the debt, I made good on that word. End of story.

Future Plans:  Oh you know me, baby—I’ll be looking for that big score. Luck's got to shine on this headless pharmaceutical mascot one of these days. That, and I’ll be shagging anything with legs.

How I’d like to be remembered:  As a maverick—one part P.T. Barnum, one part Uri Geller, and one part Aldous Huxley. As the product of a graphic designer who's clearly out of ideas. And above all as a guy who didn’t twitch in his sleep.

 

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