Local tales From our current issue:

Local AM station bans BEAST after severe panty-bunching incident

Of BANANAs & Bonobos
BEAST scores watery blow against acronym proliferation

(more to come...)

Issue 103:

Paper of Wreckage
NYT reporters caught red-handed reporting.
Allan Uthman

Gay Marriage Threatens Gay Happiness
A Fabulous BEAST Editorial
Ian Murphy

Flag Football
How illegal should it be?
Rich Herschlag

Eternal Sunshine of the Heartless Brain
Fox News launches Santorum's Weapon of Mass Delusion.
Christopher Famighetti

Sinking the Ship
Let's impeach him already.
Stan Goff

Ask Ann Coulter
Completely original advice from the world's foremost dumbass.

Starving for Attention
Exclusive celebrity fasting diary excerpts.

Authorities reveal failed plot to kill everyone
in New York City with motherfucking behemoth
laser-guided remote controlled killer bees

What Would Tom Bosley Do?
You may regret asking.
N. Sorrenti

Man Makes Clever Joke about France Surrendering World Cup
Josh Righter

Page 3 Falsified Death

Kino Korner: Movies
Supterman, Pirates of the Carribean, Click, Devil Wears Prada.

Music review: Knife Crazy
Jacob Drun

Your cosmic fortune in insult form.

[sic] - Letters
Coulter-bashing, progeny tallies, the Bauerle conspiracy, & vacationing down under.

Feeding the ultimate troll.
Al Uthman

Belafonte can't shake tally-man past.
Christopher Famighetti

A Small Rabbit out of a Big Hat
Pentagon media moguls cancel Zarqawi.
Stan Goff

Al Qaeda Idol
Vote for the next #2!

The BEAST Conservative Q&A
Answering questions that plague Republicans.

Five Questions...
for WGRZ anchor Ron Plants!

Coping with Road Rage
What can you do?
Scott Borchert

Hammer Hits Hollywood
The Big Buy: Tom DeLay’s Stolen Congress
Movie Review by Matt Cale

Stormtrooping for Dollars
Blog by boys in blue bodes badly for Buffalo

Power Tool
Brian Higgins, the enemy within


What Would Bosley Do?

You probably know Tom Bosley as Richie Cunningham’s dad, or the sheriff on “Murder, She Wrote,” but something happened in the winter of 1947 that would change Bosley’s life forever. After a night of binge drinking, he curled up under a car and went to sleep. Six weeks later, he woke to find himself in a hospital bed in Tampa, Florida. The doctor surmised that he was dragged for over 1,100 miles. Bosley believed that his miraculous survival proved once and for all that he was more God than man, and decided to spend the rest of his life as a Holy Deity. Years of mutilating his genitals to keep sexually perverse thoughts at bay have afforded Bosley a level of enlightenment that few have ever attained. His plan for your life will not only free you from the burden of sin, but will also help you generate cash by peddling curiosities. If you are tired of living in sin and struggling to make ends meet, simply look inside Bosley’s catalog of discounted merchandise, hand crafted in the labor dungeons of China’s Xinjiang Province—and ask yourself one question… What Would Bosley Do?


Medicare part D has ruined my life. I’m old and I can’t afford my medicine. I don’t have anywhere to sleep. I saw a woman on your infomercial cursing and pumping her fist. Have you forsaken me?

    Richard Shmelick


The woman you saw was Nina Merikan, a disciple of mine who has made $20,000 to $30,000 on the internet. She wanted me to tell you that in the morning she goes to her computer and sees ‘Order Placed…Order placed’ and she says, “Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck Yes Fuck Fuck Fuck Bastard Bitch Yes! Yes! Ass Bastard Fuck Yes! Yes! Yes!”

My precious, precious boy. Don’t you know that man cannot live on medicine alone? Even before the foundations of the earth were laid, I had devised a plan for you and your life. In the same way that I breathed the breath of life into man eons ago, so also must you breathe $299.95 into an envelope and send it to 966 Flower Glen St. Simi Valley, CA 93065. Verily Richard …verily I say unto thee, access to thousands of top selling products at below wholesale prices is the only way to achieve salvation.



Lately I’ve been urinating in my clothes. I’m too embarrassed to tell my wife or doctor, so I have to walk around with a bottle of water and pretend I’m spilling it on myself to fool people. I’ve tried praying to Jesus and Joseph Smith, but that didn’t work. Can you please help me?

    Scott Weiss


You are certainly not the first man to suffer with this affliction. Back when I was a street urchin, I used to urinate on myself all the time. In fact, I would shit myself wherever I was, and then just shake it down and out my pant leg as if nothing had happened. You may not realize it, but even as I’m writing this sentence I find myself peeing all down the side of my desk. The urine is arcing out of my opened fly, and splashing across some of my papers, but guess what? It doesn’t bother me. Do you know why? Because I’m looking at a scented shell candle which I bought for $2.95, and I know that soon…very soon indeed, I’ll be in my kiosk at the swap meet selling it for $8.95. That’s a profit of $6.00! I’m so happy, that now I’m going to go and shit down the slots of my toaster! With this kind of profit I’ll shit everywhere! Who’s going to stop me?



I’ve been writing letters to Adam Brody from the O.C. because I want him to know how much I love him. If he doesn’t write me back soon I think I’m going to hang myself in the garage.

     Erin Wosniak


I know exactly what you’re going through. I once wrote letters to Richard ‘Boner’ Stabone because I was convinced that we were meant to be together. His publicist contacted me shortly thereafter, warning me that any more attempts to communicate with Richard would result in my prosecution. She said that I was mentally ill, and that the graphic sexual drawings I had sent to Boner constituted harassment. I made the decision that if I couldn’t have sex with Stabone, then I didn’t want to live. I constructed a noose out of bed sheets and hung myself from a tree, but my heft caused the limb to snap and I fell to the earth. For three days I lay there, weeping, until I was discovered by a man doing geologic research in the area. He drove me to a mental hospital, where I was kept chemically restrained for months. One day during a group session, I came to realize that I didn’t need Richard’s love to make me a complete human being. For the first time in my life, I slept a full night without dreaming of Richard Stabone. I also enjoy doing Sudoku puzzles.



My girlfriend is worried about my health and keeps trying to make me drink banana milk. I’ve tried to explain that I just don’t like it, but she ignores me and keeps pouring glass after glass, insisting that I finish it. To prevent fights, I’ve just started drinking it, but each sip makes my stomach churn and I vomit soon after. Is there any way you can use your powers to make her stop, or make me like banana milk?

      Vincent McCain


What do you have against banana milk?

Do you have a problem that Jesus refuses to solve for you? Tom Bosley may be able to help. Write your petition on a sheet of rice paper, burn it, and fling the ashes into the wind whilst chanting “Fuck Fuck Yes! Shit Yes! Yes! Fuck Yes! Yes! Ass! Yes! Yes! Yes!” The Bosley will hear you.



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

e-mail the evil editors at sic@buffalobeast.com
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