Fantasy Land
In Coudersport, PA (Adelphia HQ), real life tangled with unreal ambition
Matt Taibbi

The BEAST Humor Academy Entrance Exam
Are you qualified? Find out!

Professors to Avoid
The BEAST Guide
Berkeley Bustard, Afghan Sucker
A rare, awful war memoir
John Dolan
EDITORIAL: You Pitch the Tent, I'll Start the Fire
Riot Season is Almost Over
Dead Kids are Alright

Matt Taibbi
Forgery Detection, vol.2
How to spot still more BEAST-authored letters to Artvoice
Iraq or Arachnophobia?
A side-by-side matchup
Velma's Nekkid City
Look who's coming to dinner
Page 3 Porn Store Clerk!
NFL Pre-Season Overview
Bills Diary
Muckdogs Baseball
 Cover Page

Last Issue: (5)


Fellow Sufferers:
As are you, I am new to the Buffalo area and was somewhat relieved when I read your piece about your hardships in the area of scoring. On two occasions I have ventured out into the Buffalo "street life" to get some weed. Both times, I have been ripped off of forty dollars. My strategy was to ask one of the many individuals on Elmwood Ave. if they knew where I could get some weed. I have put trust into people that have no home, nor no source of income other than panhandling and recycling cans and bottles. After tonight's failed attempt; which can also be described as the second $40 I have been ripped of, or also can be described as a piece of evidence that those who recycle are thieving bastards; my only advice to you in your quest of copping some of natures little treats, don't use bums as your middle men. Thinking about it, if a quarter is a huge score for a bum, think about how extraordinary forty dollars is. If you have better luck than I, please let me know. I am need of some weed very bad.

Bryan Berry

Dear Bryan,
You have put us in very awkward position. While we know we shouldn't judge or disdain our readers, you have publicly confessed to handing $80 cash over to total strangers and probably drug addicts, expecting to receive, in exchange, drugs of all things.

Please never refer to or even imagine us as somehow "fellow" to you. Please tell no one that you read The Beast. And above all, next time you're about to give away forty bones, think about putting it towards gas money back to Canada or wherever the fuck you're from.



Mr. & Mrs. Beast,
Every time I go someplace that is supposed to be happening there was that ball of snot Tom S. Who the hell is this guy? You know one thing that is missing [from The Beast] is a DJ review of the bars you are showing. I know just from being in a place for 10 minutes that the DJ is bad, bad, bad. I want some of the local bar owners to know how bad the DJ's are and maybe you will get some more quality people in the bar, before you're listed under the dive category of this rag.

Buffalo Bikers

Dear RM,
Boy, are you missing the point. The "Dive" category is the most coveted rating placement an establishment can attain. The selection process for being listed under that heading is grueling and few bars cut the mustard. Sadly, after weeding out the candidates through our very thorough scrutinization system, even fewer can afford our exorbitant fee for being designated a "Dive".

As to your problem with hack DJs, we have a little technique that we employ in just that emergency. Before you leave the house for a night out, get a lilty, little ditty stuck in your head, like the theme from The Andy Griffith Show or the early '70's instrumental smash "Popcorn". You will find refuge in these comforting tunes as they waft through the immense and vacant recesses of your blank mind.



The last World war against Japan, Germany, and Italy, would have gone a lot differently if we would have waited just few months longer. If not for the cowardly attack by the Japanese on Pearl Harbor Dec. 7th, 1941 we wouldn't have jumped into the war until it was too late for all of Europe and Asia, and maybe even the world. Nazi Germany, and Japan were both working on their own atomic bomb. The Nazi's has jet planes, and ballistic missiles already. With the bomb they would have won the war, and the whole world. That's the reason we must strike Saddam Hussein. We're not out to destroy Iraq, and its people. We want to get rid of Hussein. Who is a fanatical nut who is bent on getting weapons of mass destruction. Once Saddam does, he will use them against us and Israel. He wants to control the whole Middle East and all of the oil reserves. For the ignorant, that would mean total chaos here, and around the world. Just stop and think about the consequences of it. We just wouldn't be paying more for gas. We'd be paying more for everything. Plus he would hold the whole area hostage with his weapons. Can you imagine Saddam Hussein with nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons that could reach thousand of miles once he gets ballistic missiles. Saddam wouldn't even need that. Saddam would find another way to deliver the weapons. Saddam might just give them to a terrorists group, and let them do his dirty work. If you want to see New York, Los Angeles, or your city ravaged by one of these weapons, just sit back and close your eyes. Soon you will be dead and so will be your whole family, along with all of us. I don't think that anyone with any intelligence would wait for that to happen.


Dear Zklws,
We were just about asleep, but then you got to the part about some kind of doomsday bomb or something hitting New York and LA. Tell us again about the ratio of 6 or 7 women--selected for their sexually stimulating natures--to every man. And how we would need to re-populate an entire species...Hey, isn't this the part where you stand up and scream, "MEIN FUeHRER, I CAN VALK!!"



You kick so much ass, your foot stinks.

I.M. Jealous [Brett Gillespie]

Dear Brett,

We feel certain, once you consider your old lady's foot fetish, you will realize full well that the stink on our foot is most decidedly not "ass".



The following is an excerpt of a quite lengthy piece we received from a one Katherine Willbern. It is apparently titled "Nowhere Fast" and written by someone named Frank V. Coppola:

i'm puking and the regurgitated matter is bouncing off the ground and running wildly about. a riot of little elves were having a convention in my stomach and following the formal proceedings got drunk, went nuts and stampeded toward the nearest exit. up and out of my mouth like lemmings in a suicide leap. but the fall didn't kill them it only made them very angry. some were attacking my shoes and ankles. others were clinging desperately to the hairs of my beard. all were shouting violently at me- vital pieces of information that i am still gathering evidence to decipher. so i am looking to enroll in a class that teaches Truth as a second language.

Wesley Snipes responds:

Dear Katherine,
Lucky you came to us with this when you did. We've seen this kind of thing before. An only child with scatological issues goes away to college. He becomes disgusted with the formality of it all. He drops all classes where there will be any references to living people. He becomes withdrawn and despondent. He can't put a decent look together for making the coffeehouse rounds so he isn't even able to find a low self-esteem, ratty-haired, baggy-clothed, Goth-feminist to be his girlfriend. He retreats to his room thinking, "I'll show them". Rather than drop out of school, the very institution he loathes with every fiber of his soul, he sucks it up, swallows the bitter pill of compromise and endeavors to use the institution as a tool against their establishment. He becomes so adept at this that four years is not enough. He needs to delve deeper into the workings and trappings of their diabolical machinery. Two more years of study prove to not be enough. To really get to the source of the problem, to get near enough to the heart of the matter he needs a few more years and then when he's finally close enough to smell the heaving innards, the lungs, the fetid fluids of the heart of this monstrous menace he can stab it right in its life source and bring the whole evil, bestial monolith crumbling down. But now much time has passed. His years of dogged study have made him a top figure in his field. He has, like Winston Smith, learned to embrace the rasping reptile that he so deeply feared and despised. He is a professor now, a tentacle of the beast. And he is trying to seduce you Katherine, you his protege apparent, with swirling prose that takes no direction or references anything tangible or relevant. He hopes to deceive you with his zany chicanery. Turn from him and his doctrine of deviance. Put down his writings and go get a Chester Himes novel or something.

Oh and could you put Frank in touch with that guy Bryan. There's like forty bucks in it for him.

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