jackassworld

For today’s deeply introspective look into the life and mind of a jackassworld community member, I elected to go with one of the more prevalent smart-asses to be found in these here online parts. That said, meet Intermission, a tourist counselor of sorts from that other North American country. Since there is usually some type of photo accompaniment to these ten question spotlights, I asked if she’d be so kind as to supply me with an image of herself. As you can see she responded in kind, and I have to say that I’d expected nothing less.

Who are you, how old are you, and where are you from?

I’m Erin, I’m 23, and I have an igloo somewhere in that big ass mass of space above Michigan and Ohio, to the left of Greenland. I really have a lot of faith that Shanna knows this one.

How did you find about jackassworld?

I was probably looking up facts about Ehren. I don’t remember. I do remember jackass when it was one of the only entertaining shows MTV could boast about; grown men throwing themselves down stairs and looking like they were having a lot of fun filming it. My mom watched “Bloody Windshield” with me only once, and the moment I knew it was something for the ages was when she said, very seriously, “Is that real blood?” And when I told her yes, I think it shattered a small piece of her soul. If she knew about this site she would probably join just to flag me for porn.

If you could spend 24-hours in a cardboard box with anyone on the jackassworld crew, who would it be and why?

Twenty-four hours is a long time to sit and smell someone else’s piss in a box. Logistics aside, I would pick Pontius, because I heard a rumor once that he’s sort of a decent person and pleasant to talk to about stuff and things. When we’re done discussing all the trials and tribulations of other peoples lives and their sexual orientations it would be fitting if he said, “Fuck this, I just wanna dance.” It might be the best cardboard box dance party ever.

I was thinking about visiting Niagara Falls soon. Could you recommend a good place where I can buy some weed?

Wow, I had a feeling someday that story would come back to haunt me. As for a reasonably well priced dealer, peddling with geezers is basically all we do here so ask my grandma. She’s a great cook, too. You do the math.

And since I’m going to have weed, can you recommend a good hotel where I can sit on the balcony of my room and smoke out while I watch the falls fall?

You can get a discount falls-view balcony room at Sheraton on the Falls and spit ice chips on the arrogant sods coming out of the old casino. I heard that happens a lot. Check for ass prints on the windows. And make sure you sit out on the balcony around 5:00pm.

Have you ever looked a customer in the eye and told them to not go chasing waterfalls?

I never have, but thanks for the suggestion, T-Boz. It would likely benefit everyone if there were choreographed hand motions involved and I had a backup dancer. I think that’s worth a raise.

If you could go over the Niagara Falls in a barrel with anyone on the jackassworld crew, who would it be and why?

Criss Angel wanted to do that a while ago but they wouldn’t let him, probably because he spells his name with two ‘s’s. If I was going to die tumbling over Niagara Falls in a barrel with anyone it would be Sean Cliver for asking this question. I don’t think he would do it, he probably has some things to live for in life or some other excuse. My second choice would be Bam so I wouldn’t feel so bad for crying.

Once upon a time, the whole purpose of a diary was to put your thoughts, hopes and dreams down on paper in a private fashion. So what the fuck is up with this glut of online diaries nowadays? Are we, as humans, the most arrogant and self-obsessed species on the face of the planet or what?

Yeah, I think that pretty much sums it up. I don’t keep an online diary except for the one I use to record everything that happens on here. I mean, I think if everyone cared a little more about what we had to say about ourselves in online blogs there would be no need to talk to anyone face to face ever again. That would be really helpful to me, personally. But I guess there are some people out there who need a public internet outlet so they can communicate seriously with a broader audience and feel connected. I don’t really know what the hell that means but whatever.

If you could kick any member of the jackassworld crew in the balls, who would it be and why?

Dave Carnie, because besides gushing happily and biblically about Moz, he only seems semi-interested in anyone or anything when he’s drunk and ranting. I bet he wouldn’t feel it anyway, so if you think about it, everyone wins. I’d kick him in his red Teletubby pajamas and I’d write about it later in my diary.

The word “fuck” is, without a doubt, the most versatile word in the English language. How many different ways can you use it in a single sentence that is still somewhat grammatically acceptable?

What the fuck, you fucking fuckers, this fucking questionnaire is pretty fucking fucked up, for fuck sakes.

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