

Did you ever know anyone named Dick Johnson? I’ve always wondered about parents who never took the future life and well being of their child into mind before saddling them with a name that’s sure to evoke playground ridicule. Shit, before we named our kid, my wife and I purposely sat down and tried to come up with the worst rhymes or jibes that could possibly be wrought from our name of choice in a bullying moment. Anyway, today’s community profile is on Mister Wine. That’s right, he’s the guy who won something random and of no intrinsic value off Wolfie’s desk for his entry into the jackassworld art competition and later filmed himself opening the package and subsequently scratching his kitchen table. Now here he is again in ten random questions of no intrinsic value.
Who are you, how old are you, and where are you from?
My name is Max Koch (pronounced “Cook”, it’s German). I turned 38 in August and I was born in Lansing, Michigan. I’ve lived in the L.A. area since I was about seven, with brief stints in Seattle (gorgeous) and Orlando (disgusting).
How did you find about jackassworld?
How could I not find out about jackassworld? I’ve been unhealthily obsessed with all things jackass since I saw the first film in Vegas with a few buddies of mine. We were there to see Don Rickles and we were wearing suits. I didn’t wish to miss a milisecond, so I peed in my soda cup in the theater. It was a savage move, but I was hopelessly smitten with what was unfolding on the screen. Seeing jackass the movie was the happiest accident of my life. So then I went back and watched the actual show a kajillion times. It’s also helpful when I get my Johnny Knoxville Google Alerts.
How do you go about fulfilling yourself in the occupational sense?
I’m first and foremost an actor. I also draw and make movies/documentaries and host my own Internet radio show called “Max Koch’s Mimosa”. Visit www.bowlerhatproductions.com. There’s some drawings posted there, too.

How exactly does one survive the public school system with a name like Max Koch?
It was a nightmare. My name was never, ever, ever pronounced properly. “Cock”, “Coke”, “Cough”, “Kook”, “Cork” … it was agony. Mostly always got “Cock”, though. Wait, that came out wrong.
How exactly does one not enter the porn profession with a name like Max Koch?
I dunno. I think in another life I could have changed the face of porn forever. I’ve got ideas. Porn is getting very boring now.
Just between you and me, how big is it anyway?
“Just between you and me!” Look, I haven’t measured it in a long time, but I must say it’s the only part of my body I feel comfortable bragging about. While the women in my world might disagree, I consider myself to be a very unsightly fellow, so… it’s just too bad I can’t go around town whipping out what I feel is really attractive about me. Wait, now I’m reconsidering the whole porn thing.
If we were to pull out and embed one of your videos here, which one would you like to use and why?
I apologize for its length, but I would say my latest video, “Max Koch’s Christmas Creepshow”. There are obvious reasons I’d recommended this one for jackassworld, especially at around the 5:55 mark.
If Mister Wine met Mister Merlin, what do you think would happen?
The universe would explode. And I would have no choice but to totally surrender to his twisted whims.
My then 5-year-old son once told our babysitter that daddy smelled like a wine bottle. I’m not sure why I just told you that, but in the words of Wee Man, when was the last time you got “merloted”?
Wee Man rules. As does your boy. It’s funny, my wife and I have hit the tasting rooms of over 70 wineries here in the Golden State, but we’d have to say our favorite region is where you gents visited on your road trip: Paso Robles wine country. The “Far-Out Wine Tour” is not to be missed.
Who would win in an illustrative fistfight: Robert Crumb with a ballpoint Bic pen and an average-sized cocktail napkin, or Rick Griffin with a crow quill nib and a 10 x 15 sheet of smooth finish Bristol paper?
With all due respect to Griffy—whom I love—Robert would slaughter. Although that would be some damn war of the sweater vests!
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