Every great place has (or had) its great supporters. Jesus had his devoted disciples. Caesar had his legions of legionnaires. Mickey had his merry Mouseketeers. Manson even had his fucked-up family. And now jackassworld has its own manner of underground believers. Or so we’d like to believe. And this whimsical belief has led us—well, Seth really, the master and commander behind The Wolf Den^TM—to create this trailer of sorts. It’s embeddable (holy shit, that’s actually a real word? I thought spell check was gonna crack my knuckles for sure with that one…), so we implore you to take it and have your way with it. Hell, put it in Mianus for all I care. Just put it some place where others are likely to see it and get curious. Real curious. But not that curious.

Okay, so perhaps I was a bit harsh in disparaging that last fucking photo (or so it would seem, as Dimitry keeps bringing up my smartass remark and refuses to let it go), but you’ll have to forgive me because I’m pretty critical when it comes to fucks in general. That said, this was the other photo I was referring to.

The year was 1997. Big Brother magazine was already several comfortable months into its relationship with newly adoptive parent company Larry Flynt Publications, and we were all still a good bit giddy about the novelty of working in a Beverly Hills office building as opposed to the industrial ghetto of El Segundo. So giddy, in fact, that the very idea of having windows that looked out onto the thriving streets of Los Angeles opened up a whole new avenue of creative release (meanwhile, in the office without any windows, Chris Pontius was releasing himself all over the “make up” pages found in our overabundance of porn magazines).

So this particular afternoon at work was spent taping up sheets of 11 x 17 paper to our prominent third story plate glass canvas. The message was clear, simple and direct, and plastered directly above the famously busy intersection of La Cienega and Wilshire Boulevards. Standing on the street below with tears of laughter streaming down my face, I learned something very important about myself while looking up at the gigantic cuss word that was attracting attention and onlookers from surrounding office buildings: I’m really not the most worthwhile human on the face of the Earth. In this one remarkably stupid instance I expressed more emotion than virtually any other significantly important moment in my life. Take, for instance, my wife’s announcement that she was a pregnant, the momentous news of which I replied in all deadpan sincerity, “I’m cool with that.” What an idiot.

But really, wasn’t this a truly great fuck (it ran as the “intro” photo to Big Brother issue 33)? I still consider it to be one of my top ten happiest moments in life…next to the actual birth of my son, of course.

(photo by Rick Kosick)

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Clyde is going to be contributing stuff to the site here in the near future, but before he could give me anything, he went and fucked off to the Tampa pro contest. And then I didn’t hear from him. Which is perfectly normal for Clyde when he returns to Tampa every year. Black hole. Emphasis on the word “black.” Fortunately our friends at vitalskate.com found him and conducted this “grill session.”

Way back in 1995, when we were all living the dream on Big Brother, Chris Pontius whipped up this simple but effective piece of art that read, “Keep God Out of California.” (more…)

http://www.kfc.ca/home/en/wicked_crunch_contest.php

I actually saw this commercial last night while watching hockey, but I was drunk and my brain was barely able to muster a, “Huh?” It wasn’t til the sober light of day this morning, and with the help of my Canadian friend and writer Ryan Stutt, that I was able to muster a full-fledged WHAT THE FUCK? (more…)

 

Our accountant, Gio, was looking at her cell phone the other day when she went, “Oh my God. Look at this photo my friend sent.” And she showed me this picture. A remarkable specimen. She explained that it came out of her friend’s son, a boy named Phoenix. What’s even more remarkable about this crap is that Phoenix is only three years old. Imagine how big this shit’s going to get when it grows up.

On numerous occasions Jeff Tremaine has boasted that he can get anyone to do pretty much anything at any given time, and Spike Jonze is every much his equal in that category. Here, the two combine manipulative forces to liven up a meeting at Girl Skateboards, where Spike directs his energy toward Andy Jenkins, a longtime friend of theirs for almost 25 years now.

Arty fucks in a bar—excluding Mat Hoffman, of course. He would be best described as the toughest man in the world who just so happens to be standing alongside some arty fucks in a bar (Jeff Tremaine, as the flaming artist, and Rick Kosick as the bar table book end). What this photo does remind me of, though, is an even better fucking photo that capitalized upon the allure of the word “fuck” and from a very prominent Beverly Hills vantage point. Time to go dig through the boxes of Big Brother photos so see if that one still exists…it kicks the fuck out of this fuck, that’s for sure.

(photo by Dimitry Elyashkevich)

I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, but the majority of the past week was spent in meetings with external firms about our site and, I guess, everything we’ve done wrong with it up to now. And apparently there is a lot. Not that we noticed, we were too busy pooping on globes and running ourselves ragged with a 24-hour commercial on MTV that took 724 hours to prepare for. Unfortunately, all I can really remember from these meetings now is that the word “query” sounds really funny when used repeatedly in lecture-like conversation (non-stop giggles on that one, especially when it comes from a guy wearing a tie), and that no one visiting our site has any idea what’s actually on it unless they’ve got a direct bloodline tracing back to the Spanish explorers of the 14th Century—and even then they probably couldn’t hit the broadside of South America without getting an Error 500 message for all their efforts. (more…)

Have you ever seen an uglier fucking foot than this? The last time I saw a foot this flat I was watching the Flintstones. This horrid piece of flesh and bone belongs to none other than jackass director Jeff Tremaine, and he is very proud of it. Look at it-look at the fucking thing. To make matters worse, his feet perspire very badly and his socks get soaking wet. Then, but of course, the big meanie likes to take them off and drape them over someone’s head when they aren’t looking. Sometimes he doesn’t even take the socks off; he just takes his shoes off and plants his feet like a vice grip around someone’s head. I don’t know how many times poor Shanna Zablow has been near puking after being in one of these clinches. Anyway, I was going to write more about this fetid foot, but I can’t stand looking at it anymore. I’m done.
Goodbye.
—Johnny Knoxville

(photo by Madison Clapp)