Operation Told You So
No one could have anticipated the Iraq disaster, except the 40% who did
Allan Uthman
Iraq or Iran?
Which are these pundits pushing to invade?
NSA's Big Rig?
Did the NSA help Bush steal the vote?
Bob Fitrakis
TV Highlights
Ian Murphy discusses "America's Next Top Model" with his penis
Gorilla My Dreams
The Monkey Does Drag.
The Nobel Nazi?
Scientist's Legacy gets Freedom Fried.
Kit Smith
Authorities Relieved Church Fires Were Joke
Josh Righter
Get Off Ma Land!
A BEAST Reader Opinion
Best of Buffalo?
Former Staffer Exposes Artvoice Reader "Poll."
Ready, Set, Gentrify!
Elmwood Village Hotel: Good Neighbor?
What Adams Could Have Told Higgins.
Album Cover Reviews
A Skin-Depth Look at 3 New Releases.
Chris Riordan
Kino Korner
Ultraviolet, Failure to Launch, 16 Blocks, Hills Have Eyes, Block Party.
Your cosmic fortune told through harsh insults.
The BEAST Page 3 Improvised Explosive Cola
[sic] - Letters
Thievery, hoser supremacy, drowning retards and bad songcraft.

Stranger Danger
How I abandoned my principles and took over congress.
Allan Uthman
Arm or Leg?
John Stossel's Great Invisible Handjob.
Paul Jones
Spooks in the Machine
Rummy Zeroes in on the Internet.
Mike Whitney
Accidental Discharge
The Dangers of Playing Cowboy.
Stan Goff
This Much is True
The Impending Police State & Puppy Rearing.
Ian Murphy
F is for Fake
Payola Punks Flunk Science Reporting.
Kit Smith
From the Desk of Lucifer
A Complaint Letter from Hell.


Aries (March 21-April 19)

Aries, I think it’s probably a good idea to stop pursuing careers based on the movies you see. Didn’t that long period of unemployment during the ‘80s ninja craze teach you anything? Or the Baseketball fiasco? There needs to be an actual market for your “skills” in order for you to earn a living. Wedding crashing isn’t a vocation. I took the liberty of perusing the movie section of the paper today and I’m telling you now: Even if you could turn into a shaggy dog, that would only make you less employable. As hard as that is to believe.

Taurus (April 20-May 20)

Boy, am I glad the Olympics are over, Taurus. They really messed with my head, you know? When I turned on the TV during the coverage and didn’t see “My Name Is Earl,” I figured it was the sign the Owl King had promised to send me. So, I slaughtered my wife and children. Boy, was my face red. Red like the blood of human sinners. The snowboarding was great, though.

Gemini (May 21 –June 20)

I understand, Gemini, that your boyfriend always enjoyed it when you sat on his face. But, weren’t you at all worried, or at least suspicious, when three hours passed without any sign of life—without so much as a sound from him? Didn’t you get stiff kneeling like that? What the hell were you doing all that time—meditating? Was sex with him really such a dull pursuit? Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore, although you may be facing criminal charges. I’m guessing the first question the police will ask you is whether that shocking, deadly overgrowth you’re sporting is intentional, or just serious neglect.

Cancer (June 21-July 22)

Cancer, I hate to tell you this, but you’re a terrible musician. The next time you’re warbling a James Taylor song or butchering Paul Simon at an open mic, take a look around and count the rolling eyes and slumped shoulders. I’m not saying you shouldn’t play when you’re alone, but if you keep practicing your scales while your roommate is home, he might just snap and cram your 5-foot turbografix bong down your throat. Seriously, Cancer, he’s fantasizing about it on a daily basis. Look to Mars, and try a career in visual art; there’s no standards there.

Leo (July 23-Aug. 22)

Leo, I’ve got some bad news and I’ve got some good news. The bad news is you’ve managed to attract another cyber-stalker. The good news is I truly love you, Leo, and I want—nay, need to know everything about you. Which is why I installed the very latest keystroke copying technology on your laptop. Who do you think got rid of all those other stalkers, Leo? I did! They tap-tap-tapped their ways to shallow graves. Your brother, too, unfortunately—totally a mistake on my part. You have to admit, though, it’s a little strange for you and your brother to be calling each other “Pistol” and “Sweet Tits.” Anyway, the important thing is: I won. ILU, Leo, ILU. Now, you try it.

Virgo (Aug 23-Sept 22)

Remember that ejaculation delay cream I gave you, Virgo? It turns out my Cantonese is a little “rudimentary.” Wretched, actually. Apparently, that cream is a topical chemical sterilant currently being administered to lab monkeys and studied as a possible treatment for recidivist pedophiles. Well, perhaps I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Technically, it hasn’t been approved for testing on macaques yet; it’s still in the pre-test phases. I guess nobody knows what it might do. Anyway, I’m really sorry about all of this. I just wanted so badly to do something nice for you and I know you’re an early squirter. I went back and asked the guy at the shop about reversing the effects. I thought he muttered something about an “elixir made from the hooves of gingerbread paddleboats” but obviously for a variety of reasons that can’t be correct. I guess I should stop shopping at Asian apothecaries, or at least brush up on my Chinese first.


Libra (Sept 23 –Oct 22)

I don’t care for your new friend, Libra. There, I said it. What perplexes me most is how you even came to know someone like that. Where have you been spending your time? Everyone loves a good fart joke, but two straight hours of nothing but flatulent fetishism, Libra? And resorting to proctological prop comedy with other people’s belongings, that was really too much. For god’s sake, Libra, we were at a baptism.

Scorpio (Oct 23-Nov 21)

Is it possible, Scorpio, we have reached the point where reality television is now substantially less real than fake television? By my count, Flavor Flav is on his third show, and the second focused on his apparent animal magnetism. I submit to you, Scorpio, not even Phlip K. Dick could have contemplated these twisted eventualities.

Sagittarius (Nov 22 – Dec 21)

Forget, for the moment, that wagering on the Oscars is just lame. You would think, Sagittarius, that if you were throwing down the sum of $10,000 you might do your homework. You put ten grand on a movie called Memoirs of a Geezer, Sagittarius. In the documentary category, no less. It’s geisha—Memoirs of a Geisha. And it stank. And it wasn’t a documentary. And it didn’t star Walter Matthau, Jack Lemmon or Burgess Meredith, because they’re all dead. But that wasn’t the best part, was it, Sagittarius? No, half of that $10,000 comes from your mother’s prostheses. Won’t she be surprised!

Capricorn (Dec 22 – Jan 19)

You’re pathetic, Capricorn. You’ve been pining for the same girl for the last three years. She barely knows you exist or, if she does, she doesn’t seem to care in the least. She never accepts any of the gifts you buy her. It’s time you faced up to the fact it’s never going to happen for the two of you. You’re from totally different worlds. You have next to nothing in common and she’s more than three times your age. Worse, she already has several mates behind her and a parade of potential new suitors. You’re a young guy, Capricorn—and she’s a friggin’ African elephant.

Aquarius (Jan 20-Feb 18)

Aquarius, I know you’ve been obsessing ever since you read that sex advice column about certain foods affecting the taste of your semen. What concerns me is that prior to reading about this phenomenon, you had perfectly normal regard for your own bodily fluids; specifically, you weren’t the least bit interested in sampling them. I can certainly appreciate you natural curiosity and the, ahem, spirit of scientific inquiry. But specially preparing meals, draining yourself dry and then experimenting with dessert pairings is plain ghastly.

Pisces (Feb 19-March 20)

Pisces, it’s time to put your dog to sleep. I understand it’s a hard thing to have to confront. But it’s time. I know you just brought him home from the breeder. He’s barely three months old! Believe me, it’s easier to do it now, before you get attached. You can do this, Pisces. I’ll get the shovel.



Idiot Box by Matt Bors
Big Fat Whale by Brian McFadden
Perry Bible Fellowship by Nicholas Gurewitch
Bob the Angry Flower by Stephen Notely

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John Stossel's Invisible Handjob
Stranger Danger: Ports Pandering
Piano-Gate: Tickling Ivories at Amy's?
10 Questions for Scott McClellan
Ask Dr. Cruise
Guide to Post-9/11 Opportunism
Ask a Horrible Human-Monkey Hybrid
GWB's Rapture Report
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