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The 50 Most Loathsome Americans, 2004




50. Ann Coulter

Crimes: Coulter plummets down the list as she slips into irrelevance. As her columns degenerate further into absurd, incoherent attacks against her own personal paranoid fantasy of fanged, drooling, Saddam-loving liberals who hate America and childish France-bashing, we find our outrage slowly giving way to a baffled “I can’t believe I used to go out with you” feeling. Her arguments are ridiculous, her vitriol forced, her hatchet face even harder to look at. Still, she insulted a one-armed war veteran, called reports of the hundreds of tons of missing munitions in Iraq false, claimed Wesley Clark was pro-infanticide, and blamed Abu Ghraib on the presence of women in the armed forces—they’re not all like you, Ann—and on and on. It’s just not worth debunking someone who has no credibility in the first place.

Smoking Gun: Has credibility in the minds of more people than we can stomach acknowledging.

Punishment: Skull crushed with rock.

49. Clay Aiken

Crimes: Rode to stardom on a racist backlash after his failure to win “American Idol.” Brings false hope to pre-teens that they will meet a nice clean boy who won’t take advantage of them. Befouls airwaves with his vile dreck, which makes us long for the days of Shaun Cassidy.

Smoking Gun: Was one of two people on this list to do a duet with the rolling corpse of Bing Crosby for a Christmas special. Put himself in the role of David Bowie.

Punishment: Hydrochloric acid martini.

48. Scott McClellan

Crimes: Completely hollow. Able to regurgitate any message programmed into him without regard to its validity or internal logic. A human void, capable of sapping the virtue away from the most idealistic reporter within three jokey, familiar, stonewalling press conferences.

Smoking Gun: Hasn’t killed himself.

Punishment: Locked in a room for eternity with a camera that sprays spitting cobra venom in his eyes every time he speaks.

47. 50 Cent

Crimes: Sole credential for being a rapper, aside from his affiliation with Dr. Dre, is having been shot several times. Spent his first record company advance on crack to sell. Can barely talk, let alone rap. Represents the worst aspect of urban culture, its tendency to collapse in on itself in an orgy of mobsterism and self-destructive spending. Obnoxious tendency to pull out large wads of cash and wave them around in people’s faces (not a figure of speech).

Smoking Gun: Ugliest rapper to make it since Biggie.

Punishment: Getting his ass kicked by Will Smith.

46. Colin Quinn

Crimes: Least funny SNL alum since Joe Piscopo (at least Tim Meadows can speak English). Blamed cancellation of his awful show on reverse racism, ignoring his pathetic ratings, stumbling speech and the fact that his entire C-list entourage couldn’t beat Pamela Anderson at Trivial Pursuit.

Smoking Gun: Pontificated at length on the nature of comedy in Seinfeld’s yawn-fest Comedian.

Punishment: Stash of white supremacist literature and nun-porn discovered in high profile cocaine bust.

45. John McCain:

Crimes: Survived years of torture in Vietnam only to become a bend over buddy for a sheltered rich dunce. McCain could have bolstered his largely unearned air of credibility this year had he stood against Bush, but instead chose to show us all that that no principle is too fundamental to humanity to be overlooked in the name of party loyalty. We can only hope that they’ve got something on him, something big.

Smoking Gun: Returned to criticizing Bush as soon as it didn’t matter anymore.

Punishment: Vice President under Rumsfeld.

44. Ellen Degeneres

Crimes: Turns out to be the most boring comedian, gay or straight, since…ever. Her Seinfeld on Quaaludes routine isn’t just tedious; it’s harrowing—watching her belabor a gag that wasn’t funny in the first place about opening a jar of pickles for minutes is enough to make anybody groan. Her cookie cutter talk show succeeds for the simple reason that, beyond the gay thing, viewers know that Ellen will always be nice and won’t let any negative information invade their fragile minds. If Degeneres were a straight man, she’d be getting booed off the stage at a tiny club in Scranton right about now.

Smoking Gun: Tolerated Anne Heche.

Punishment: Ten years as writer for “Mad TV.”

43. Tony Blankley

Crimes: Editorial page editor for the Washington Times, the Reverend Sun Myung Moon’s religiofascist newsletter and the Bush Administration’s favorite morning read. Thinks the UN Oil for Food scandal warrants more attention than a White House full of war criminals. Had the gall to attack George Soros because “[h]e said that he has no moral responsibility for the consequences of his financial actions,” when that is clearly a moral loophole embraced by all free market zealots such as Blankley, and went on to attack him for being “a self-admitted atheist” and “a Jew who figured out a way to survive the Holocaust.” Refers to Donald Rumsfeld as “brilliant.” His paper has lost a billion dollars and sells one paper for every seven Washington Posts, but is in no jeopardy because of lavish funding as the psy-ops arm of Moon’s Unification Church.

Smoking Gun: Ended his final column of the year like this: “Americans are standing upright, their strong arms uplifted against the barbarians.” A shameless, taint-licking propagandist.

Punishment: Very slowly lowered into meat grinder.

42. Jenna Jameson

Crimes: The first best-selling author who could be sodomized with a well-thrown baseball since Truman Capote. Her newfound mainstream legitimacy as an icon of America’s freakish love for porn is directly related to her former incarnation as the best blowjob of the ‘90s.

Smoking Gun: Now only does scenes with boring phony-lesbos…and her husband. Real hot.

Punishment: The inevitable attention-vacuum which will envelop her the second any part of her body begins to sag perceptibly.

41. Everyone who got together to watch the final episode of “Friends”

Crimes: Allowing a trivial sitcom about living in New York, made for people who’ve never been anywhere near New York, to become a focal point in their shallow, meaningless lives. Watching TV together is not a bonding experience; it is a distancing experience, a way in which people can cohabit a room without actually having to engage each other or connect personally. Whoever’s ultimately responsible for the “watch ‘Friends’ or the terrorists win” meme should have a special room reserved for him in the bad section of hell.

Smoking Gun: You probably liked the whole Niles and Daphne thing on “Frazier,” too.

Punishment: A full year of plodding BBC Documentaries.

40. Laura Bush

Crimes: Oh the first lady, what an inspiration she must be to android researchers everywhere. Smile, nod, smile, (look interested) nod, put on $50,000 dress, suck off the president and there you have a typical day for the first lady. Corporate yes-wives like her will hasten the coming of mandated burkas for American women. Actually looks related to George, which might explain their mongoloid children.

Smoking Gun: She married George Bush.

Punishment: Chugging a gallon of stem cells on Fear Factor.

39. Tom Cruise

Crimes: Inexplicable stardom. In a just world, Brendan Fraser would get an Oscar before this carbon copy of every other rich asshole cokehead with a fast car. Consistently influential in casting women in his movies for the sole purpose of nailing them. Extremely convincing when he plays an ambitious, superficial prick.

Smoking Gun: Always plays an ambitious, superficial prick.

Punishment: Caught in the act with Vin Diesel.

38. Toby Keith

Crimes: The worst kind of proud-to-be-brainwashed dolt, one who feels he should express himself. The fact that this ambulatory hamburger’s opinions were ever given public forum is an indictment of our entire civilization and all human history leading up to this point.

Smoking Gun: Plays country music.

Punishment: Impaled on improperly installed American flag attached to tractor-trailer, dragged for 12 hours, eaten by wolves.

37. Halle Berry

Crimes: Chooses projects on the basis of how opportunistic they are in exploiting her body. Followed her sweaty fuckfest in Die Another Day with the worthless atrocity Catwoman. Her tearful 2002 Oscar acceptance speech for Monster’s Ball (which also included a fevered humping scene) put her in competition with Barbara Streisand for the title of most self-important woman in Hollywood.

Smoking Gun: Every role she takes will be hailed as another milestone in civil rights history by virtue of her barely discernible smattering of African DNA, when in reality her success only underscores our nation’s incapacity to accept a truly black actress.

Punishment: Reduced to skin care infomercial endorsement.

36. Stephen Moore

Crimes: President of voodoo economics PAC the Club for Growth and frequent Republican whipping boy on HBO’s “Real Time with Bill Maher,” Moore actually snivels visibly. Follows every evil statement with a pussified “just kidding—sort of” laugh and shriveling “please don’t hurt me” body language. May be the least original thinker of all supply side policy drones.

Smoking Gun: Missing out on the heart and soul of what’s fun about being Republican, freedom from self-consciousness and doubt.

Punishment: Smacked to death by Richard Belzer.

35. Matt Sharp

Crimes: Creator of VH1’s celebration of undeserved wealth and morbid excess, “The Fabulous Life,” the bastard ghetto child of “Lifestyles of the Rich And Famous,” complete with Robin Leach-impersonating voiceovers. His morally bankrupt show serves as a who’s-who of prime targets for public execution, entertaining bloated, brand-conscious meatbags with the details of how sinfully rich celebrities squander their undeserved fortunes. Sharp knows his audience; you can tell by the hilarious elementary mathematical breakdowns he offers his viewers at the end of the show when he reveals how much money his subject is actually worth (“Britney could buy 50,000 rare Gorilla-foot handbags and still have enough left over to occupy Syria!”). The celebratory, awed tone with which his show informs us that Lil’ Kim has crushed $100 bills put into her nail polish, or that you could feed your family for a year on what J-Lo spends to get her eyebrows done, makes us wish we could burn such criminals with our minds.

Smoking Gun: Your girlfriend loves this show.

Punishment: Pureed and made into face cream for Lindsay Lohan.

34. Clarence Thomas

Crimes: On the wrong side of every Supreme Court decision since he got the job carrying Scalia’s golf clubs.

Smoking Gun: Angry black man routine during Anita Hill hearings was the most forced overacting this side of Keanu Reeves’ tantrum in Johnny Mnemonic.

Punishment: Led out of the Court in chains after inadvertently casting the deciding vote to reinstitute slavery.

32. Lynndie England

Crimes: The ultimate “ugly American,” England represents everything people hate about us—ignorance, perversion, racism, and denial. The most authentic trailer trash to enter the public spotlight since Anna Nicole, complete with illegitimate baby by an abusive ex-boyfriend and experience in the meat processing industry. Described by her no doubt horrific mother as having been “in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Smoking Gun: The pictures, duh.

Punishment: Gang-raped and devoured alive by all of the hysterical Republican pundits who defended her.

31. Al From

Crimes: Founder and CEO of the detestable Democratic Leadership Council, the lead organization for the “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em” wing of the Democratic Party. From’s appeasement strategies have lead directly to tragic losses in the last three elections. Responsible for the inability of serious people to fully respect the Democratic Party.

Smoking Gun: Said Dean couldn’t win; backed Joe Lieberman.

Punishment: President Nader.

30. Jim Lehrer

Crimes: The nauseating host of the “liberal” PBS program “The News Hour” never hesitates to show his fealty to our business and government overlords. When independent journalist Christian Parenti appeared on “News Hour” upon his return from Iraq, he had the temerity to link the instability in Iraq to America’s failure to implement even half-hearted reconstruction. “There still isn’t adequate electricity…there wasn’t adequate water. Where is all the money that’s going to Halliburton and Bechtel to rebuild this country, where is it ending up? And I think that is one of the most important, fundamental causes of instability, the corruption around the contracting with these Bush-connected firms in Iraq…” Two days later, the spineless Leher apologized to his viewers for Parenti’s informed, reasonable opinion, telling us the “…discussion about Iraq ended up not being as balanced as is our standard practice. While unintentional, it was indeed our mistake and we regret it.” Balanced. There’s that word again. Leher has never apologized for any of the lunatic horseshit coming out of administration apologists on a daily basis.

Smoking Gun: His services as the sycophantic moderator of presidential debates in 2000 and 2004 wherein he may as well have been blowing kisses at the candidates, serve to legitimize the weak, non-combative debate format the two parties cooked up.

Punishment: Embedded with the 3rd Marine Battalion in Fallujah, where liberal-hating grunts will use him as sniper bait.

29. Michael Savage

Crimes: Will say anything to get attention, and then say the opposite for the same reason. Thinks revealing his inner xenophobe makes him some kind of rock star. Learned everything he knows about world politics from Archie Bunker. Said this: “When you hear ‘human rights,’ think gays. When you hear ‘human rights,’ think only one thing: someone who wants to rape your son. And you’ll get it just right. OK, you got it, right? When you hear ‘human rights,’ think only someone who wants to molest your son, and send you to jail if you defend him.”

Smoking Gun: Real name is Michael Weiner.

Punishment: Ass-raped to death.

28. Ben Affleck

Crimes: His uncanny ability to produce an unending stream of shitty movies and still get work rivals that of even Kevin Costner. Has coasted for years on a reputation built largely on a former association with Matt Damon, but has done nothing to justify his star status aside from boning Jennifer Lopez. Gigli was the cinematic equivalent of the Madrid bombings.

Smoking Gun: CGI scenes in Daredevil were more lifelike than his oafish live action.

Punishment: Reunited with J-Lo.

27. Bob Novak

Crimes: Beats even Scott McClellan as Bush’s most unholy mouthpiece. Virulently protecting the Bush administration in order to further his own career. Novak didn’t think twice when instructed to reveal the identity of CIA agent Valerie Plame in order to get back at her critical husband, Joe Wilson, yet he now claims it would be morally wrong to reveal the treasonous White House leaker. Indirectly caused the incarceration of Judith Miller of the New York Times, who should be in jail on totally separate charges involving her poorly researched WMD hysterics leading up to the war in Iraq.

Smoking Gun: Still insists the Swift Boat Veterans ads and their libelicious spin-off book, Unfit for Command, was “well-documented” and didn’t contain any lies.

Punishment: Heart harvested in preparation for Dick Cheney’s presidential bid.

26. Terry McAuliffe

Crimes: Chairman of the Democratic National Committee. Said, “This is the best election night in history” on November 2, 2004, just before 8pm EST. Not only presided over the pathetic Kerry defeat, but held the same position in the 2000 fiasco. A driving force in the Republicanization of Democrats, he personally saw to it that the charismatic Dean campaign was crushed to make way for Kerrybot. Doesn’t understand that winning is not necessarily about copying what winners do, but more often not doing what losers do.

Punishment: Hillary Clinton as a cellmate for life.

Smoking Gun: Said the party will spend “whatever it takes” to study complaints from Ohio voters that included uncounted votes, long lines, shortages of ballots, understaffed polling stations and voting machine errors. Still studying, apparently.

25. Dr. Phil

Crimes: Not a doctor. Not wise. Offers troubled souls nothing but the sweet feeling of surrendering control. Only reason for prominence is that Oprah just couldn’t support her show by herself anymore. Offers troubled simpletons meaningless slogans that resonate for a maximum of five days before they realize they already knew that shit and they still can’t stop whatever compulsive behavior got them onto his show in the first place. Is almost certainly regularly involved in some unspeakable depravity that he can’t stop and which caused him to fabricate his public persona in a frantic attempt to convince us he’s normal.

Smoking Gun: Both presidential candidates were forced to submit to his pedantic bullshit in some bizarre new soft focus emasculation ritual to get slack-jawed housewives to vote for them.

Punishment: A lifetime of guest spots on Springer.

24. Ronald Reagan

Crimes: The greatest monster in recent American history. Reagan’s excruciating sanctification during his agonizingly protracted funeral was enough to make anyone with knowledge of his true legacy blow up a radio tower. Newspaper columnists performed astonishing feats of selective memory in canonizing Reagan, disregarding any inconvenient evidence of supporting terrorism, ripping off taxpayers for outrageous defense programs, or introducing crack cocaine to America, because we need our heroes.

Smoking Gun: Responsible for telemarketing and infomercials.

Punishment: Reanimated and killed again.

23. Jerry Bruckheimer

Crimes: “Producer” really just means “guy with the money” in Hollywood. Master of the incoherent action sequence, full of unnecessary cuts and jittery close-ups. His rapidly multiplying CBS cop show empire is replete with ridiculously beautiful cops and scientists (and murderers and victims and witnesses) and impossibly stylish interiors. The “CSI” franchise perfectly fulfills the viewing needs of a fat, lazy nation: no running, no car chases, just sitting around, talking, and playing with gadgets. The real crimes, however, are the movies, including Kangaroo Jack, Coyote Ugly, Bad Boys, Bad Boys 2, Days of Thunder, Gone in 60 Seconds, and the so-stupid-it’s-funny Armageddon. Imagine what else could have been done with that money.

Smoking Gun: Who brings a fucking Gatling gun to an asteroid?

Punishment: Made into shoes for Martin Scorsese.

22. Michael Jackson

Crimes: Surgically transforming himself into a ghastly artificial creature, and then forcing himself on little boys. His ability to remain at large and to find parents still willing to let their kids sleep over at Jackson’s elaborate child trap both indicate a failure of our species as a whole.

Smoking Gun: “Jesus juice?”

Punishment: Forced to record and release new single as part of plea agreement, “Don’t Let Your Son Go Down on Me.”

21. Alan Colmes

Crimes: An angry conservative’s wet dream: an effete liberal dive artist. As a professional doormat, Colmes’ only tasks are to serve as a comforting aggregate of Republican stereotypes about Democrats and a target for the seething derision of his psychotic guests. Stands idly by while voracious green-blooded co-host utilizes Gestapo tactics against centrist Democrats.

Smoking Gun: His cringe-inducing new book reads like a crappy internet parody (“I’m proud to be a liberal. In my spare time I hug trees. I’d rather hug a tree than embrace a tax cut… Ever try to hug a tax rebate check? Bark burn is so much more pleasant than paper cuts.”)

Punishment: Suffocated under a naked, sweaty Rush Limbaugh.

20. Anna Nicole Smith

Crimes: Continues to find ways to damage the fabric of society with her very presence. In 2004 she rapidly transformed from a washed up, sedated blimp to a washed up, sedated hooker, thanks to some pill-marketing scam brought to us by a paralyzed FDA and a hard drug addiction. Has grown more incoherent with every lost pound, to the point that she is like some tawdry copy of a pre-death Marylyn Monroe without any Arthur Miller to suppress her. Lost her money, but still worships at the altar of attention—any kind of attention, at any cost.

Smoking Gun: Volleyball-sized breast implants just aren’t attractive.

Punishment: Electrocuted at climax by Bill Clinton’s pacemaker.

19. Zell Miller

Crimes: Part Yosemite Sam and Part Foghorn Leghorn. Miller doesn’t make the list for his salivating, traitorous keynote speech at the Republican National Convention, or even the duel thing with Chris Matthews. He makes the list because he really does represent Southern Democrats. Miller was chief of staff for diehard racist Georgia Governor Lester Maddox, who used to own a restaurant where he’d hand out pick handles to his customers to beat any black people that might try to come in. The Democratic party really isn’t the party he once knew—thank God.

Smoking Gun: Won’t switch parties, just to be a pain in the ass.

Punishment: Death by torrential barrage of spitballs while watching his granddaughter make out with Big Pun.

18. Mel Gibson

Crimes: As with any religious nut, expects people to take his delusional bullshit seriously. Is obsessed with pain and suffering, as can be observed in the numerous Hulk Hogan style “now I’m really mad” scenes in nearly all of his movies, in which he endures medically impossible levels of bodily punishment before rising to vanquish his cartoonish foes. This is such a routine motif in Gibson’s work that we half expected Jesus to jump off the cross and start kicking Jewish ass in The Passion of the Christ. More historically revisionist than Oliver Stone.

Smoking Gun: Shot about 11 times in the climax of Lethal Weapon II, yet still saunters off with his partner as the credits roll, apparently not in need of medical attention.

Punishment: Neurodegenerative illness that could have been cured through stem cell research.

17. Armstrong Williams

Crimes: Williams was going to make the list anyway, but shoots up several positions since he admitted to accepting $240,000 from the Department of Education to promote the No Child Left Behind Act. His sole defense so far is that he used “bad judgment,” as if that was some kind of excuse, rather than the heart and soul of every crime. Says he is just the tip of the iceberg.

Smoking Gun: Claimed to a prospective job applicant that 70% of gay couples molest their children.

Punishment: Full Birth Abortion.

16. Nicole Richie

Crimes: Wasting space in our minds. Not being pretty, talented or interesting, yet expecting people beyond her family to pay attention to her. Further indoctrinating teenage girls with the poisonous idea that if they just act like obnoxious, spoiled bitches they will somehow never have to work.

Smoking Gun: Made 27 on Maxim’s Hot 100 for standing next to national disgrace Paris Hilton for a year.

Punishment: 10-page pictorial in Stuff sans airbrushing, and no Oxycontin for a whole week.

15. Condoleezza Rice

Crimes: The phrase “politics is show business for ugly people” has never had so fine a foil. Smirks condescendingly at senior Senators when they ask her silly questions about gross negligence in the area of national security. Winner of the Beast award for most likely to make Grover Norquist’s dick hard. Promoted for feverishly licking Cheney’s boot for four years.

Smoking Gun: Gets to sleep in the big house now.

Punishment: thrown into the arctic from the Exxon oil tanker that used to bear her name.

14. Tom Delay

Crimes: The worst Congressman alive. Being the most corrupt member of the House is a hell of an achievement. Delay is so brazen even lobbyists have expressed reservations. Compares the pathetic, castrated EPA to the Gestapo. A self-obsessed misanthrope in the guise of a Christian.

Smoking Gun: According to Danny Yatom, former head of Israel’s feared Mossad: “The Likud is nothing compared to this guy.”

Punishment: Outed by Barney Frank.

13. Joan Rivers

Crimes: The most ghastly face science has managed to create without the use of chemical weapons. As a pioneer in facial reconstruction, she shows us that, in the future, every famous woman will gradually turn into a cross between a sickly geisha and the Joker. The red carpet fashion-cop shtick she does with her broken, spiritless daughter is such an obvious inferiority complex manifestation we almost feel sorry for them, until we remember they’re making millions of dollars for it.

Smoking Gun: The sheer, ugly self-hatred of a woman with that face, that voice, and that personality nitpicking Nicole Kidman.

Punishment: Face falls off into wet cement at Mann’s Chinese Theatre.

12. Paul Wolfowitz

Crimes: The mastermind behind our war plan in Iraq, also known as “Operation Fucking Disaster.” Wanted to skip Afghanistan altogether and get right on with the intractable quagmire phase of his anti-terror plan. So far up Israel’s ass he can taste the kugel.

Smoking Gun: That disgusting thing he did with his comb in Fahrenheit 9/11.

Punishment: A successful populist democracy in Iraq.

11. Dan Rather

Crimes: Along with Cronkite’s so-bonkers-it-might-be-true comment that Karl Rove must be behind Osama bin Laden’s timely October video release, has given the rabid right enough fuel to maintain their bogus “liberal media” charge for years.

Smoking Gun: Made Peter Jennings the most credible anchor in the business.

Punishment: Life sentence as the liberal whipping boy on “Hardball with Chris Matthews.”

10. John Negroponte

Crimes: US Pro Consul (a title that was given to de facto rulers of dependencies or occupied countries in colonial times) of Iraq. Garnered his reputation as professional thug with his assignment as ambassador to Honduras by Ronald Reagan in 1981. Collaborated with the Honduran military while lying to Congress as they kidnapped, tortured and killed hundreds of people, including US missionaries. Was responsible for implementing the Reagan administration covert strategy   to crush the Sandinista government in Nicaragua, resulting in it becoming 2nd to Haiti as poorest country in the western hemisphere but with the special distinction of having the largest disparity between rich and poor. Appears to be carrying out the same plan in Iraq, as recent disclosures about the Pentagon’s plans to utilize death squads to achieve our kind of democracy indicate.

Smoking Gun: As Iraqi occupation grew bleaker from the start of 2004 a new tactic was employed, assassinating intellectuals opposed to the occupation. A senior commander working for the American-installed Iraqi police said “They are politicians that are backed by the Americans and who arrived to Iraq from exile with a list of their enemies. I’ve seen these lists. They are killing people one by one.” Sounds like a job for Negroponte; he went from appointment to confirmation in a blistering eight days.

Punishment: Being skinned alive would be a nice start.

9. Jessica Simpson

Crimes: The gleaming flagship of the triumphant return of bimboism. The aesthetic equivalent of vitamin D milk. Makes Britney Spears look like a Rhodes scholar. Managed to crap out a hit single by removing every remotely innovative element from Berlin’s “Take My Breath Away.”

Smoking Gun: Probably likes her own music.

Punishment: Strapped to bunker-buster.

8. John Ashcroft

Crimes: Promoting sexual shame, writing and singing alarmingly jingoistic and terrible songs, flattening constitutional protections, detaining brown people at will without charges or counsel, pretending to be a patriot, and intentionally ignoring terrorism in his pre-9/11 tenure.

Smoking Gun: Put a fucking curtain up to cover a naked breast on a statue. A statue.

Punishment: Only heterosexual judge on the supreme court in 2035.

7. Donald Trump

Crimes: Hopelessly addicted to narcissism. Shares Saddam Hussein’s compulsion to have gaudy structures named after himself. Is to dignified wealth what Michael Jackson is to competent childcare.

Smoking Gun: The hair alone justifies violence.

Punishment: Forced to expose his tiny penis before crowds of laughing celebrities on “Who Wants to See Donald Trump’s Penis?”

6. George W. Bush

Crimes: Too numerous to mention. The worst piece of shit ever to run this country, including King George III; when’s the last time a president made half his country want to move to Canada? Lays claim to the legacy of Jesus Christ as he hungrily sucks what little life-essence is left from the world. Appears to be only dimly aware that he is destroying the future, but seems to think it’s kind of funny.

Smoking Gun: Too numerous to mention.

Punishment: To have his fortune stolen from him by Cheney, Rumsfeld, Perle and Wolfowitz, and be denied Medicaid.

5. John Kerry

Crimes: Managed to lose to the most hated president in American history by virtue of his total inability to convincingly portray himself as a human being. Didn’t even have the balls to show up during the Ohio election challenge in the Senate. So thoroughly vetted that he appears inhuman, incapable of speaking without repeating the same hackneyed phrases incessantly and gesticulating like a poorly operated marionette. Cursing his daughters with his frightening profile.

Smoking Gun: Actually did vote for the $87 billion before he voted against it.

Punishment: Quality time with wife and kids.

4. Dick Cheney

Crimes: So loathsome his own party is frightened of him. Manages to deliver stunning lies with an air of sneering authority. Shamelessly employs scare tactics in order to strip the federal government of any resemblance to the one described in the constitution. So visibly evil that all of the documented evidence against him is superfluous. The kind of guy who starts talking cannibalism the minute he steps on the lifeboat.

Smoking Gun: Managed to make his own shame at producing gay offspring into a negative for Kerry.

Punishment: Hacked to death by Mexican migrant workers.

3. You

Crimes: You gaze idly at the carnage around you, sigh, and go calmly back to your coffee and your People magazine. You can’t stop buying useless crap, though you’re drowning in a deepening pool of debt. You think you’re an activist because you bitch all day on the internet, but you reelect the same gangsters at a 99% rate. You consider yourself informed because you waste a significant portion of your life watching the same three news stories cycle over and over again on your gargantuan, aerodynamic television set while you eat processed food. You really thought everything would be okay if Kerry won. Not only do you believe in an invisible man who magically farted out the universe, you also excoriate and marginalize those who disagree. You have a poorer understanding of your country’s foreign policy history than a third world peasant, but you can’t wait to see what Julia Roberts will be wearing at the Oscars. You cheer as Ukrainians challenge an election based on exit poll data, but keep waiting around for someone else to fix your problems. You can’t think, you can’t organize and you won’t act. This is all your fault.

Smoking Gun: You’re fat.

Punishment: You’re soaking in it.

2. Donald Rumsfeld

Crimes: At least Herman Goering knew how to conquer people. Rummy is the richest person in the white house, a former auto and pharmaceutical CEO and the one who nurtured Dick Cheney’s career. So rife with corruption and fascist desire he makes dirt look clean. Carries himself in press conferences like a cranky grandfather who is sick of hearing his daughters whine about how he molested them every now and then.

Smoking Gun: Abu Ghraib.

Punishment: Abu Ghraib.

1. Kenneth Blackwell

Crimes: The greasy, rancid piece of crap who delivered Ohio for Bush by any means necessary, and then bragged about it in a recent fundraising letter. A black man who has no reservations about screwing over his own people in his lust for power and money. Blackwell is the kind of soulless traitor without whose complicity no nefarious evil plot ever goes down. In step with the future of global elections.

Smoking Gun: Phony recounts, media lockouts, intentional misallocation of voting machines, you name it.

Just Punishment: Dissolved in barrel of acid.

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Vitruvius Truth




Vitruvius Truth

Attacks N.J., Democracy, and the Chinese way of life

Vitruvius Truth has made love to many women. At turns graceful and elegant, perverse and nasty, my truly international collection of lays, spanning four continents, has made me a cosmopolitan man of high standards and exquisite taste.

That’s why, when the New Jersey Nets fired Byron Scott, I was nauseated, as though someone had gifted me an edition of Boccaccio’s Decameron in the modern Italian.

That’s why, when the All-Star starters were announced, I felt uneasy, like after paging through Mad Magazine’s vaguely sexual cartoons before I had ever ejaculated, standing under the all-seeing CVS fluorescents on trembling legs. Yes, I got that “funny” feeling all over again, as my initial excitement gave way to confusion, bodily weakness, and an obscure feeling of injustice.

That’s why, when Jim O’Brien resigned from the Boston Celtics, I felt more than a twinge of melancholy. The fact that O’Brien was not only Irish, but looked the spitting image of the Celtics’ leprechaun logo, only made the saturnine humor let flow its bile more freely.

Some say the dual departure is a veritable serpent in the eagle’s left talon; that the East needs to purge itself in order to wake up, happy-fresh and clean from its enema, and compete with the West. Some say we should blow up the moon, because it can only be done once, and we can’t leave this glory to the degenerate future, a future which may never materialize; that we should, no—that we must concentrate all our energies on destroying the moon now! Before the iniquitous Iraqis, the traitorous North Koreans, the plentiful Chinese—or even the Great Sleeping Russian Bear—beat us to it. Though such advice seems divine, upon closer scrutiny it shows itself to be only deceitful folly in rags of wisdom. The true interpretation of the coaching moves follows:

Both moves were symptomatic of the East Coast’s greatest ill: organizations that kowtow to players. Jason Kidd Super Star (and wife beater) fired Byron Scott. Scott took the Nets to the NBA Finals each of the last two years, and the Nets were in first place when he got the axe. This after New Jersey had gone 5.2 lustrums without a Finals appearance. But a couple of pompous malcontents mutinied, and the yellow-bellied organization staved-in to their stars’ demands. Although, in the short term, I expect the Nets to thrive, that kind of craven surrender on the part of the organization is not going to win basketball games in the future.

The same kind of perfidy occurred in Boston. O’Brien wanted to play defensive ball, but the players apparently don’t get paid enough to play defense. GM Danny Ainge wanted to go the way of the world, acquiring athletic, imbecilic players (like Ricky Davis), who have vertical leaps and no idea how to play basketball. Idiots. At this pace, the East won’t compete with the West until the players are twelve-fingered.


As an NBA columnist, I am biologically compelled to discuss the All-Star Rosters this time of year. Yes, as the chrysanthemums blossom in the spring, and the cute, fluffy squirrels bury their little nuts in the autumn, so I complain about the choices of the “fans” and critique their butchered, Mengele-like assemblage, the All-Star starting lineups.

As usual, the same hollow men, who think they’re big shit because they shoot-up villains in video games, who think they’re on a foot with the greatest men in the land because they got V.I.P. special advanced screening tickets to Win a Date with Tad Hamilton, who think that “dress-down Friday” is akin to the privileges of kingship, so utterly fucked up the balloting that there’s little I, the Media, can do to rectify it. Here are the always-reliable masses’ choices, with my comments. Alas.


G Tracy McGrady: Should feel lucky to be a reserve. Learn to pass, McGrady!

G Allen Iverson: Love him, but too many tattoos to be on the team.

C Ben Wallace: The only center in the East. Congratulations, fans!

F Jermaine O’Neal: Deserving enough.

F Vince Carter (leading vote-getter for the 4th straight year): For the fourth straight year shouldn’t be on the team.


G Steve Francis: Shouldn’t be on the team.

G Kobe Bryant: Shouldn’t be on the team.

C Yao Ming: The Chinese are indeed an abundant people. Shouldn’t be on the team.

F Tim Duncan: The best player in basketball. Fans got confused or something, I don’t know.

F Kevin Garnett: Two of five does not justify democracy.

So now that the creative American fans (and Chinese armies) have maddeningly succeeded in voting for the exact same starting lineup as last year, I offer the remedy of sanity.

East Reserves

G Jason Kidd: Unfortunately, Kidd must content himself as a player, not a coach. Best point guard in basketball. Megalomaniac All-Star Supreme.

G Lebron James: Like that asshole, Kidd, he deserves to start.

C Dikembe Mutombo: Better than “The Lame,” Ilgauskas. Is playing really good D.

F Ron Artest: Maybe the East’s MVP.

F Paul Pierce: First he gets stabbed, now this.

X Michael Redd: Wasn’t even on the ballot.

X Baron Davis: Pretty good player.

West Reserves

G A Half-Gary Payton, Half-Bobby Jackson Hybrid: The greatest scoring point guard in history.

G Sam Cassell: Best non-hybrid scoring guard in the game.

C O’Neal: Just smile, wink, and hold out the product, Shaq.

F Peja Stojakovic: Best player who shouldn’t start on this team.

F Brad Miller: Putting him here instead of his listed center.

X Zach Randolf: Plays better stoned than almost anyone.

X Pau Gasol: Swears in Spanish when he dunks.

My apologies to Carmelo Anthony, Andrei Kirilenko, Jason Richardson, and five Dallas Mavericks, who should use their enormous wealth to mass-murder the fans for fucking up my lineups.

Ahh, at last, the seizures have ceased. O blessed sleep, tired nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep!

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The Blotter-The week in sports crime.




By Matt Taibbi


Man, has it been a tough season for Keyshawn Johnson. First he gets deactivated for the year by a team dying for help at wide receiver. Then he tries out as a TV commentator and sucks with unusual fervor, virtually guaranteeing he wouldn’t be invited on as a playoff commentator. Then he drops hints on TV that’s he’s interested in signing with New England, Baltimore or Dallas—and the news doesn’t even make the inside pages of the sports sections in any of those cities.

Then, this past month, things just went from bad to worse. Seems Keyshawn has had a little disagreement with his ex-wife, Shikiri. Specifically, he appears to be upset that she started dating another guy, one John Mahannah. Burgeoning bitterness turned to action on Jan. 9, when Keyshawn, at a family funeral, approached Mahannah and told him, “I’m going to catch you and beat you to a pulp.” Me-Shawn had to be restrained—get this—by other mourners.

After that, Keyshawn continued making phone threats against Mahannah. According to a lawsuit filed by Mahannah on Jan. 14, Johnson made repeated threats, including threats against his life. On one of the messages submitted in a recording offered in the lawsuit, Johnson again repeated, “I’m going to beat you to a pulp.”

As a result of Mahannah’s lawsuit, Johnson must now stay at least 100 yards away (the length of a football field? Coincidence?) from Mahannah and his children until the order can be reviewed by an Oakland judge on Feb. 6.

The lawsuit was filed on the same day that Keyshawn was robbed at gunpoint in Berkeley. Seems Keyshawn became the latest loudmouth wide receiver to have a bad incident with a cell phone. He was on the phone outside a Berkeley barbershop when he was held up. Key gave up his money and his jewelry, but got away unharmed. He might find free agency harder to get through unscathed. Can anyone say, “Arizona Cardinals third receiver Keyshawn Johnson”?


Quietly, as though it had been pulled by cats, the bad-news bandwagon in Denver has rolled into the limelight. Never mind the team’s on-field struggles; never mind that high picks like Willie Middlebrooks, Ashley Lelie and Deltha O’Neal have turned into staggering busts, while high-caliber free-agent signings have similarly exploded. Never mind that an increasingly steady stream of high-profile players have begun bitching in public about Mike Shanahan (Eddie Kennison, Daryl Gardener). More important is the increasing number of off-field incidents surrounding the team. This year, the Broncs have suffered through “pancake-gate,” the notorious attack on unsuspecting civilians in the parking lot of an IHOP by Gardener, as well as the latest outburst by serial domestic-choker Dwayne Carswell.

Now it looks like the bad news has spread to the most consistent area of the team—the offensive line. The Broncos O-line has always had its share of problems in terms of being fined, with one of the most famous incidents being the $5,000 “slime fine” slapped on Mark “Stink” Schlereth, Gary Zimmerman and Brian Habib in 1997. Center Tom Nalen has been fined repeatedly for chop blocks, and linebacker Brian Cox even once threatened to break Nalen’s leg. But while the Orange O-line has always has a reputation for playing dirty, it has also always been at the top of the league in terms of effectiveness, producing four different 1,000-yard rushers (Terrell Davis, Olandis Gary, Mike Anderson and Clinton Portis) in the last eight years.

Now that may be in jeopardy, as the Broncos inexplicably let star O-line coach Alex Gibbs go to Atlanta. And right on the heels of that decision—widely blasted in Denver—the Broncos watched as one of their key linemen, tackle Matt Lepsis, got busted for a DUI. Lepsis will be going to court on February 23 to face drunken driving charges


The San Jose police department released the police report for the Jeff Garcia DUI arrest, and it is one stupendously weird document. The scene described by one “Sgt. Celano” seems almost too surreal to have actually happened.

Synopsis of the scene: on Jan. 14, at 1:50 a.m., Garcia was spotted as he drove unsteadily down E. Fernando St. in San Jose. He was driving a white Lincoln Navigator and he had three passengers: two chicks (Meredith Freeman and Virginia Vilotti; maybe those rumors aren’t true) and a dude, one Eddie Garza. Eventually he was pulled over in a Jack in the Box parking lot. As he did, two male passengers from a car following Garcia jumped out and shouted: “Garcia wasn’t driving! It was the girl!” Meanwhile, police pulled Garcia out of the car and observed the following symptoms: “red watery eyes, dilated pupils, rebounding pupils when exposed to light, the smell of alcohol on his breath.” Said Garcia in response to questioning: “I have a buzz.”

Now here is where it gets weird. In the supplement report filed by Sgt. Celano, he describes arriving on the scene and finding Garcia struggling through the field sobriety test. “Garcia used his arms for balance and was unsteady.” Meanwhile, Celano said, a group of 15-20 people formed in the parking lot and began chanting Garcia’s name. By this time, Garcia had taken his breathalyzer test and scored a very impressive 0.237%, placing him in Ingrida Sabonis territory. He was shoved in a patrol car. Around then, Sgt. Celano began to be concerned about the integrity of the crime scene. We quote verbatim from his report:

The crowd that formed at the drive started to chant, “Let Garcia Go!” At 204 hours, I requested that SJPD to responded [sic] to our location due to the fact that there were only two officers and the crowd had the potential to turn into a riot and may try to lynch Garcia.

Garcia was subsequently taken away to the safety of the police station, where he began a new career as the internet whipping boy of soon-to-be ex-49er Terrell Owens. It was not clear from the report whether Garcia is a constant threat to be lynched in the Bay Area; one would have to assume so from Celano’s report.

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I just read your “bad brew” article, which I found via totalfark…whoever wrote that needs to find a job writing for a major publication (Maxim, Stuff, etc.) — that was one of the funniest things I have read in a long time. The “Steel Reserve” portion caused me to spit a mouthful of Red Bull all over my desk because I started laughing with the “Holy Fucking Shitballs” intro…

Thanks for the laugh this morning….



Aaaahh, profanity. Where would we be without it? Hey, wasn’t Red Bull also crappy beer at one point? Whoah.


Dear Beast:

I was hoping for a bit more technical data in the substandard swill article. Specifically -taste aside- what is the highest alcohol percentage brew at the cheapest price? You may need to perform some kind of mathematical analysis: ounces of alcohol per dollar. Are malt liquors really the highest percentage? Why isn’t this information disclosed on the bottle?

Sober and confused -or- drunk and broke.



‘A bit more technical data?’ Please, we were reviewing the boo, which means we were drinking it, boner! Go get yourself some grain alcohol, you sad bastard.



have you ever been flushed on by local governing bodies in the shower? are you dancing between or washing dishes with less water than a morning dew collection of drops? do you feel the man is out of his friggin mind getting a 20% increase in pay while you sit in a cold basement after work with a bernsomatic torch? stop…take action…complain to someone who cares! ! !

call your water authority! ! !



Have you ever written a letter to someone that made sense? Wait, you’re running out of water? Bernsomatic torch? You’re losing us, man. To your credit, however, the man is definitely out of his frigging mind. Are you the man?



Accept God into your life while you still have time.

Contact a local church or prayerline today.

He is real do not be in Hell when you realize it!

Casey Schroeder

Dear Casey,

We’re already in hell. The only contact we’ll be making with a local church will be with a bulldozer. Grrr!


you suck not to have your new issue online, I live in Kentucky, and of course your paper isn’t distributed in my town. I rely on the internet. get your shit together assholes!


Dear Editor’s Girlfriend,

The next time you pretend to be from Kentucky, try taking your name off the e-mail, silly.


Go back to the old look on the website.

The old look was underground and put the emphasis on the writing. This new one is all over the place and distracting.

marc manzo





Dear Buffalo Beast,

I have to say that I do agree that Jessica is a pretty name and I do agree with most things that you have to say altogether. But i must say no there is nothing i can do for you for a subscription other then money, for the simple fact that i can already tell i am to good for you, you are the type of person that giggles at slight cleavage and is excited at a rated r movie you most likely spend you time trying to beat the system and see as much as you can on the fuzzy station (for gods sake just pay for the station)



We can’t afford the station! We just can’t. Maybe we should sell subscriptions or something. You sound hot, because you’re either really young or really dumb.



Hi – While I do agree that the bar patrons of Buffalo Wild Wings are a bit heavy/ugly, I do not agree that the staff is. Take a good look at the workers they are all very cute, if not gorgeous. The servers especially….




big mistake…..

So i never heard of your paper. But I just read an article. I haven’t been in BW3′s in a long time… but after reading your review why would I want to go? I’m led to believe its full of ugly/heavy people. Actually, i’m expecting it to be full of them! A good journalist would never dream of making a comment like that unless it were true, right?, because then it would be bordering on slander.

I guess its not a big suprise I never heard of your paper. You publish tasteless garbage. What a joke, you couldnt find anything else wrong with the place so you had to start talking about the people!

Truth is, the trash you passed off as reporting hurt a friend of mine. And like any good friend would do… they would go right after your precious advertisers.

good day :)


aaaaaaaaw……was it skiiibunniii? Seriously, there’s no way you could interpret our review as slander. The correct term is libel.


Dear Turdmuncher,

You should just stay out of Buffalo Wild Wings b/c we don’t need internet geeks

with no cajones to say something to someone’s face.

Just tell your boyfriend that New York is gay friendly but the Mighty Buffalo

can’t stand your stench.


Yo Momma’s Baby’s Daddy

Dear Daddy,

You guys must be really fat and ugly to get so upset over this. Look, we can be friends, no problem, just take out an ad…fat-ass.



Glad we are living on a major fault line, what the fuck? I do not know about the rest of the state, but I live in the only island of normality in the whole west coast, the East Bay. Western New York State does not sound very different, what with the decaying infrastructure, the comically inept politicians and the white flight to the less terminally fucked suburbs. Matter of fact, here is a fun trivia question. What major California city lead the state in murder and violent crime, is also a major drug smuggling hub and has been without a police narcotics division for almost two years? Ding, ding, ding…. Oakland it is! For all its problems, the East Bay does have it charm and is infinitely superior to that glory hog of a city, San Francisco (motto: Birthplace of the Whiny Metrosexual). Ever see that Verizon commercial with that irritating and balding pervert in Drew Carrey glasses? Well, then you never have to go to SF because you pretty much know what everyone who lives there is like. I would love to have a friendly argument over which is superior, Western New York or the East Bay, but I really have never been to Buffalo so I would not know if you where feeding me a line of shit. Until then have some respect for the state that contains the city that is the birthplace of the Black Panthers and the home of the greatest football franchise ever.

-max blithe

Face it, Max, the only reason you live in Oakland is because you could never possibly afford to live in SF. We’re not the ones who elected Arnie, not to mention Reagan. We’ll start respecting you when Northern Cali finally secedes and forms its own state. Oakland is hardcore, sure, but you’d all shrivel up and die if you got one day’s worth of Buffalo snow. The Raiders do have way cooler uniforms, though, we’ll give you that.



Re Most Vile: A tough job to be certain, deciding who should and who should not be on the Most Vile List, but you’ll have to excuse me for bringing to your attention one GLARING absence. Ashton Kutcher??? This fuckwit was born for the list. True, the list maintains many individuals with high-ranking positions and the ability to fuck us over everyday by pusing this or that agenda -an ability that he dosn’t possess. But pound for pound nobody can annoy like Kutcher, and,worst of all, you can’t get away fromt he prick! He’s on every channel all the time! his resume speaks for itself.

That having been said, much respect for the Beast. Shine on.

Benjain Hunt


We considered Ashton for the list, but then he never would have agreed to do the interview in our last issue. Plus, he’s got, like, the best stuff, dude.


“Desert Storm da video game!” (read like “Yogurt” from Spaceballs)

I don’t know if you’s know about this, but there’s a fucking Desert Storm video game. Can you believe that shit? Talk about irony. (Y’know, considering the weapons programs, news footage, etc) It’s called like “Desert Storm II: Back to Baghdad” or something like that. I don’t know what offends me more: the fact that some company has decided the events disgracing America in the internat’l community and the demise of civillians from Iraq and soldiers from the US is trivial enough to be made into a video game, or that they just didn’t put enough imagination into the game. I mean, hell-oooo?! No “Bionic Commando invades Baghdad”, or “Contra: The Baghdad Years”? Or remember that game “Jackal”, with the two jeeps for original NES? You could have those dudes blasting away insurgents and innocent citizens left and right! “Improvised Explosive Device” my ass! Send fuckin Double Dragon in there. Or, here’s my favorite: The dust from the Depleted Uranium munitions turns US and Iraqi’s over there into zombies, and you can have a Resident Evil: Baghdad. Whatever, the game makers over seas are sitting on a goldmine and they don’t even know it. I tried. And where is Jailbait Jenny? Everyone wants to know.

Luke Allein


Jenny’s been here the whole time; she just doesn’t like to speak when her mouth is full.



RE: DU Weapons

I find this article to be inaccurate and offensive. First of all, the pentagon does NOT spend “almost the entire federal budget.” It is certainly not more than 30%, and most likely a lot less. Secondly, we don’t use DP to poison people. (There are a lot more effective ways to poison people if we wanted to, which we don’t.) Rather, we use DP because it is highly effective in penetrating armor. It is INTENDED to kill whatever it is aimed at. Without it, we need to use a lot more explosive, which has implications of lesser payload, lesser effectiveness, and therefore our soldiers more at risk. We have not irradiated cities (as alleged elsewhere), but have used these weapons on armored vehicles (mostly in the desert) or bunkers. The bunker buster cited does NOT contain “an explosive uranium charge that weighs 1.7 tons” as alleged in this article. Uranium doesn’t explode unless detonated in a (very) controlled manner in a nuclear explosion. What the GBU-28 has is 630 lbs of high explosive. (0.3 tons.) The depleted uranium itself does not explode, it is there to add mass and density allowing it to penetrate 20 feet of concrete or 100 feet of dirt. Without it, we have no way of penetrating hardened bunkers other than using actual NUCLEAR weapons, which would have a catastrophic effect for everyone, not just those in the bunker itself. I suppose we could just leave the bunkers alone and allow the people hiding there to continue to command and control enemies who would hurt our troops or kill our civilians in our homeland. I prefer to kill those in the bunkers myself. As for the dangers of dirty bombs, they are primarily psychological weapons. The only people seriously at risk are those close enough to be injured by the blast itself. As for the high levels of radiation at four sites in Baghdad, there is no causality demonstrated in this article. There are a number of possibilities. Leftover material from Sadam’s weapons research, material looted from hospitals, etc. If the author were to say that there is high level of radiation next to this bunker that we destroyed, then that is causality, but merely linking radiation to DU in an effort to say we are deliberately trying to irradiate cities is ridiculous. (“Did you know bananas are dangerous for your health? My grandfather ate bananas and he’s dead! His father ate bananas too and HE’s dead. Bananas are dangerous!”) So, are DP munitions inherently dangerous? Yes. They are intended to be, just as other weapons and many other useful things such as gasoline and automobiles. The benefits in this case of being able to destroy enemy armor and bunkers outweigh the collateral risks posed by DP residue. Tell locals not to let their kids play on destroyed tanks. The collateral damage of using DU is a lot less than the up-front damage would be if we didn’t use it. Personally, I’d rather take a chance at getting cancer down the road to being killed outright today. Finally, the Pentagon does not go to war so they can test their new toys. They test their weapons first. The needs of war (killing enemy soldiers at the least risk to ourselves or civilians) drives weapons development. Weapons development does not drive war. This is an insult to our troops and a callous disregard of the lives and welfare of our people. If people are unhappy with the effects of war, they should focus their energy on preventing war, not on harming our troops by limiting their abilities on the battlefield.

>Pete Cox

Okay, “almost the entire federal budget” is a bit of an exaggeration, but not much. I never said we were deliberately irradiating cities, just that we are irradiating cities. Your moral relativism is revolting, Cox. “Tell locals not to let their kids play on destroyed tanks?” I can just hear your sinister snigger as you type a callously hateful line like that. “Weapons development does not drive war?” Puh-leese. “I’d rather take a chance at getting cancer down the road to being killed outright today?” Frankly, I’m not so sure, in your case.


OOOOOOOOOOOOH…………[on the phone:]
Hey Beast Guys this is the Alt Press. Uh, reference your pot uh ad, just wanted you to know that everyone that’s been calling we’ve been telling them they’re calling a police sting sponsored by the Buffalo Beast and gave them your number. Bye.

Wow. That’s gotta be the lamest retort ever. Why would a police sting tell the callers what it is? You guys need to work on this ‘funny’ thing you’ve been trying out. Whatever; we were just expressing our affection for you guys. You never call anymore, Alt Press. Is there another publication in your life? It’s OK; we can handle it. Just tell us it’s not. Artefakt, please.

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The BEAST Page 3 Surgically Enhanced Right Breast




Name: Janet Jackson’s Right Breast

Turn-ons: Saline bags, fresh air, media circuses, football, JJ from “Good Times” (he’s still got it!)

Turn-offs: Confining military-style outfits, nature, Paula Abdul, hungry babies, Moveon.org

How I became The BEAST Page 3 Surgically Enhanced Right Breast: Well, it’s kind of silly, really. Janet was rehearsing her big halftime number with Justin Timberlake, and he kept talking about how they should do something to top Britney’s smooch with Madonna. Janet has a basic resentment of “white bitches who sell more records than [her] cause they’re white,” so she went for it. MTV loved it, too. I guess we didn’t plan on everyone freaking out, though—it’s a different crowd than the Video Music Awards, I guess. Now they’re all denying that it was planned, which is about as believable as the Warren commission. C’mon, why was I adorned with that crazy pasty? How come it happened just at the line “bet I’ll have you naked by the end of this song?” Why would Janet be wearing a tear-away bra? What other “shocking moments” could MTV have been referring to in its statement prior to the show? Why did Justin say, “Hey man, we love giving you all something to talk about,” right afterwards? We wanted the hype, and we got it. Why not fess up? Either way, Janet’s next album is gonna sell like heroin, no matter how crappy it is.

Future Plans: I imagine that I and my counterpart will be wrapped up tight for a while, while the backlash dies down, but our popularity will no doubt rise in the wake of this global peepshow. We’re also thinking of having hydraulics installed.

How I want to be remembered: As the most important thing in the world; way more engaging than all of that political election war stuff; even more important than football and high-priced commercials. Also as proof that any girl can be a sex symbol, as long as she doesn’t mind undergoing a Frankenstein-like surgical transformation, and having a clownish smile carved into her face.

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by Michael Gildea

The Butterfly Effect

Fucking Ashton Kutcher. He’s got a big part on a reasonably funny show, he’s dated/fucked a famous skank, and then dated the Queen Skank. Hell, he’s even got an unfunny MTV show that the most brain-dead of dingleberries find, for some indefinable reason, amusing. But now the little pretty-boy prick’s got to take over the world, and diversify his talents by actually acting. If the little shitweasel’s secret weapon is his acting ability, our beloved mud-ball can sleep well. You can grasp the concept of The Butterfly Effect by watching the old “Simpson’s Treehouse of Horror,” in which Homer steps on a bug after creating a time machine out of a toaster. Grandpa even warns him not to step on a bug, because the future would forever be altered. If America’s favorite oaf is dumb enough to not heed some old-time advice, what makes you think that Demi Moore’s old ego boost is going to figure it out? This gives us a psychological thriller that relies entirely too much on special effects, and leaves little to the easily baited viewer’s imagination. You won’t have to think too much. So, to ruin this piece of shit for every teenybopper in the theater who thinks Ashton is so dreamy, I stood up and howled “YYYESSSSSSS!” in that true Kelso style whenever the audience seemed especially unnerved by the child molestation themes, or whenever Ethan Suplee (Willem from Mallrats) showed up as the girthy goth kid. The ushers tried to kick me out, and I faked spasms and overacted when I sobbed, “W-w-what-t-t-t-t’s hhhhhhappppppennnning to m-m-m-m-me?” They shut me up with free nacho bites and extra liquid cheese. I definitely gave the best acting performance in the theater that day…

Win a Date with Tad Hamilton

A big-time movie star (Josh Duhamel) has a contest to (you guessed it) win a date as a publicity stunt after he winds up on the front page of a tabloid. What Mr. Hot Shit doesn’t count on is that he falls in love with the so-sweet-her-smile-could-send-you-into-sugar-shock hometown girl (Kate Bosworth), while one of her best friends (Topher Grace) secretly pines for her. Will Miss Sweetcakes pick the safe bet or be whisked away to Hollywood for a life of red carpets and regular pictorials in US magazine? How the fuck should I know? Do you actually think I pissed away an hour and a half of my life to sit through this shit? Do you think I’m that much of a movie fanatic that I’d go and see every little piece of fluff that finds its way to a gigantic screen? You want the truth? YOU WANT THE DAMN TRUTH? I cried, all right? I cried myself to sleep, and I woke up to an usher jabbing me in the ribs with a broom, thinking me a homeless person. He called me crazy, I called him cold, and he called the cops. Then I called BEAST publisher Paul Fallon to come and bail me out of jail. Guerrilla journalism brought to you as only THE BEAST can…

The Big Bounce

The best thing about nabbing one of those free sneak passes from any given shop on Elmwood is that you can’t lose, or so I always thought. I haven’t been to one of these previews in a while, and when I stepped into the flourescently-lit theater, I forgot that the lowest common denominator of the movie-going public always shows up to these things. And they always smell like Hickory Farms gift-boxes of meat. Plus, they always run into some other Cosby sweater-clad shitgoose they know and yell across the theater about what movies they’ve recently seen (“BIG FISH WAS GOOD! DIFFERENT, BUT GOOD!”). To spite the masses, I took it upon myself to win every promotional item that 97 Rock was offering that night, much to the dismay of the fat bastard a few rows back who pointed this out to the rest of the theater’s occupants, who wanted my blood when there wasn’t one more Big Bounce t-shirt up for grabs. As for the movie, it just kind of plopped. I normally get excited as a fruit fly at Marcella’s whenever an Elmore Leonard novel finds its way onto the big screen, but The Big Bounce was not Out of Sight, Jackie Brown, or Get Shorty. It had a few fun moments, and Owen Wilson did a great job of playing the same character he usually plays. The twists were even more anticlimactic than the third Matrix movie. Aside from my usual screw-over on the film-going public, there was a great scene with Willie Nelson and Harry Dean Stanton, and the preview for Starsky and Hutch was hilarious.

The Perfect Score

A bunch of high-schoolers, worried about their futures, decide to steal the answers to the SAT tests. Which is pretty damn convenient, seeing how they all live in the town that serves as home base to the SATs. The Perfect Score comes off like a cross between The Breakfast Club and the remake of Ocean’s 11, except it’s nowhere near as good as either of them. It’s directed by Brian Robbins, who you may remember as the Fonzie wannabe on that shitty ‘80s show “Head of the Class.” He also directed such classics as Hardball, Good Burger, and Varsity Blues; movies that are the equivalent to throwing a fight, as far as career moves are concerned. Rumor has it that Scarlett Johansson (this month’s up and coming It girl, star of Lost in Translation and Girl with a Pearl Earring) skipped the wrap party, and cried herself to sleep after finishing the filming on this one. And to anyone who may be sweating the SATs: I never took my SATs in high school and look where I ended up! The world is your oyster…

You Got Served

This movie epitomizes one of the many reasons why I hate this time of year. All the good movies have come out, and now there’s nothing left. It’s like working retail as your only source of income. Right up through New Year’s, you’re getting around forty hours a week, but a week after Christmas you’re getting eight hours, and syphilis, because you have to suck dick for gas money. It’s a nasty, nasty cycle, and I thank God every day for DVD players. As for You Got Served, it’s about respect and money, crews breakdancing and dancing otherwise, competition and territoriality, not backing down from a motherfucker and keeping your rep, backstabbing and getting shit done. But Jesus thought about them, because he thought about all things. If all he said and did was written, there would be no volume large enough to contain the detail. So they ponder in dialect. And the dawn creeps up on them, reminding them to go to sleep for a few hours. Hopefully, the feeling they had upon shutting their eyes is the feeling that will persist until nine. For it is then that their youthful ideals will be put to the test. When they come up against the commercial world and the awakening activity of everyday life. That’s the kind of shit that happens when you watch this movie. Your mind wanders under every stone and into every crevasse. You know all and mystery no longer exists to you. And word has it that the sequel, Electric Boogaloo, will hit theaters early next year.


Back in the beginning of 1998, I went to see a movie called Mighty Joe Young, at what was at the time the $1.50 movies. I went to see it for three reasons. 1) It was 7:30 and the bars didn’t get hopping until around 11, 2) I love giant computer animated gorillas, 3) Charlize Theron was in it. I went to see Monster for one of those reasons, being the third. With her role in Mighty Joe Young, Theron just had to look good, and be nice to an imaginary character. But in Monster, she’s required to do the opposite, and I think she did great on both counts. If you’re looking for the typical Charlize Theron role where, if nothing else, she’ll be hot, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Theron gained thirty pounds, and sported buckteeth, creepy black contact lenses, and a hideous she-mullet to play Aileen Wournos, America’s first female serial killer. Wournos killed seven men before she was convicted and executed in 2002. While Monster is not Charlize’s most glamorous role, it is definitely her best, and also her best performance. Every single thing she does in this movie proves her capabilities given the right role. The downside is that performances this great usually come from movies that are depressing as all hell. Watching the abuse and pain that Wournos went through just makes you feel profoundly sad and sorry for the woman. Normally, I’d be all over a lesbian scene between Charlize Theron and Christina Ricci, but in this case, I was too depressed and disgusted to appreciate it. While Monster is not exactly the feel good movie of the year, it’s definitely the most heartbreaking, and definitely one of the best.

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Aries(March 21-April 19)

Poor Aries, you’ve had a bad run of luck in the dating department lately and it has you a bit depressed. Well, at least it’s not as depressed as the poor bastard sitting across from you at the restaurant. Christ, even the waiter wanted to kill himself and him interaction with you was minimal. Having a conversation with you is like trying to escape a black hole, no matter how hard you try it just keeps sucking. I’ve seen coma patients with more charisma than you. Do us all a favor Aries and become a shut in.

Taurus (April 20-May 20)

Taurus, you’re the kind of person than makes the earth a shitty place to live. The amount of bullshit produced by you in one day could fill the Grand Canyon twice. The only positive thing about your existence is that you will in fact die some day (preferably whilst on fire). If you look up “scum” in the dictionary it says; “Scum n. impurities which rise to the surface of liquid and collect on it,” what it should say is “Taurus.”

Gemini (May 21 –June 20)

A small word of advice Gemini, the next time you decide that you need to move over four lanes of traffic quickly try using a fucking turn signal. Doing that may help to avoid the seven car pile up that you were apparently oblivious of. I’m glad you got to Happy Hour on time. In fact I would join you but it seems a good portion of my lower torso became part of the steering column in my car shortly after some asshole cut me off. Gemini, you’re a self-centered asshole.

Cancer (June 21-July 22)

Sensitive little cancer, I know you are upset at the way that girl at last Saturday’s party rudely shunned your advances, but you did have vomit on your shirt as well as the hand you were using to touch her hair. She may have hurt your feelings but you didn’t have much going on in the self-esteem department to begin with. Look to Venus for consul and try not to drink a quart of grain alcohol before courting a lady. Unless of course that lady happens to be Elizabeth Taylor.

Leo (July 23-Aug. 22)

I told you six weeks ago to have that thing looked at and now look at it. For gods sake you left a wet spot on the couch when you sat down. Picking at it did no good either considering can see it through clothing. Leo, look to Saturn for some antibiotics and several months of skin grafts. Now please leave and don’t worry about the couch, I’m going have it burned.

Virgo (Aug 23-Sept 22)

Virgo, just because you think riding a bike instead of driving a gas guzzling car is the right thing to do doesn’t mean that I want to drive six miles an hour down a main road. That shit might have gotten you laid back in 1963 but today it’s going to get your hippie ass run over. Look to Jupiter for your answers and take the goddamned bus.

Libra (Sept 23 –Oct 22)

Libra, still having trouble figuring out what could have gone wrong at your recent job interview? Well, for starters the majority of job candidates do not wear sweatpants (let alone ripped ones) to their interview and there is the mater of excusing yourself to take a “dump” halfway through the meeting. Think about that before slapping your wife around for “holding you back.” Losers aren’t made, they’re born, and you Libra are a thoroughbred.

Scorpio (Oct 23-Nov 21)

So you got caught masturbating at work and your boss has it on the security tape, worse things have happened. The fact that he made you watch the tape before saying, “I guess I don’t have to tell you that you’re fired,” was a bit painful. Actually the worst part was that you were using the children’s section of the Sears catalog for jerk off material. Yes, I’d have to say that your days in the Big Brother organization are over. Now do us all a favor and jump off a bridge.

Sagittarius (Nov 22 – Dec 21)

Please stop calling her Sagittarius; if she wanted to talk to you she would have called back after the thirty-fifth call you made. The fact that you have been driving down her street slowly several times a night is not one of your shining points. Mars called to you Sagittarius and is telling you to leave that poor woman be. There are plenty of lonely women down at the Tim Horton’s for you to pick up.

Capricorn (Dec 22 – Jan 19)

Capricorn, look to Neptune this month because I don’t have to much for you this time around and you’re just going to have to accept it. Basically, life has diarrhea and is going to use you for toilet paper. I’m sorry but that’s the way the cookie crumbles. Now stop that crying and go drink some bourbon, because bourbon is your friend and we all need friends. Just deal with it Capricorn and have a shot for me.

Aquarius (Jan 20-Feb 18)

Little Aquarius, you desperately want to know the key to happiness and I just want to tell you and I am here to tell you that so does everyone else. If happiness and truth could be found in a damned horoscope then we would have a ticker-tape parade down Main Street USA and I’d be in charge of confetti. Either quit your bitching and accept that life is not perfect or just start main lining heroin into your veins. The choice as always is up to you Aquarius.

Pisces (Feb 19-March 20)

If you want the attention of the girl across the street there are better ways than to press your genitals up against your living room window every time she is waiting to pick up her little brother from the school bus. The truth is that most people buy cards or some flowers rather than leave disgusting smears on the window glass. Please Pisces, stop that before someone calls the police again and you have to lie about the smell coming from the basement. Look to Saturn Pisces and put some pants on.

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The BEAST Real Evil Interoffice Document




This issue’s BEAST Real Evil Interoffice Document comes to us from Ken Lay, former Chairman and CEO of the Enron Corporation. Lay, who George Bush calls “Kenny-boy,” has been buds with the Commander-in-Chief for some time now, as is shown by this thank you letter he sent Bush back when he was Governor of Texas. A polite message of gratitude is warranted, after all, when someone perverts the nature, and subverts the mission, of government for your personal ends. Also, a few hefty campaign contributions can’t hurt.

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