who the hell are you?
Normally I’m the pitcher when it comes to these little exchanges, but recently I found myself on the catching end of matters when Pussy Power sent me this list of ten questions. Yeah, I know, let me say it for you: “What the fuck, dude. We could give a shit about you and your too-wordy-for-your-own-good ass. Christ, we already have to slog through your nonsense every goddamn day of the week, so why go and bogart what’s supposed to be a community feature? Fuckin’ Napoleon and shit with your shrimp-ass, semenless dick, yo.” Fair enough, point taken, but all I can say in response is: Don’t hate the player, hate the non-compliant jerk-offs that left me hanging in their unresponsiveness. In other words, a deadline is a deadline and scheduling matters must be met. So what the hell. No harm in letting the tables be turned just this once.
Who are you, where are you from, and were you excited about doing jackassworld?
My name is Sean Cliver, I’m originally from just south of the Canadian border but presently found just north of Mexico, and yes, most excited. Not only is the prospect of weekly income a plus but it was a chance to keep the dream alive and the band together. You know that whole “divided we fall” phrase? Well, let’s just say that apart from one another we fall harder than most. A lot harder. So together we’re at our best, which means we can ideally deliver you, the good people of the world, our entertaining worst.
Have you found it more difficult to skateboard since turning 40?
You would think, but no. If anything it’s just been a slow and gradual decline since 30. My terrain of choice has and will always be the streets, but my knees can no longer absorb the impact they once did. So I do my best to keep everything within the workable realm of curb/bench formations. On the flip-side, when I was 19-years-old I never imagined I’d still be skateboarding now—much less in an office—so I wholly appreciate the simpler things that are left in my skateboarding life. But on the day I find myself unable to do a kick-flip … then I’ll know something has gone afoul with my mental vs. physical age.
I have noticed you have a lot of groupies since the website started. Do you find it flattering or a little overwhelming?
Maybe a little disconcerting? No, mostly just funny—but not as funny as my wife. She finds it absolutely hysterical. Recently a mother of one of my son’s friends sent her a link to a random Facebook group that woefully equated me to a “god” and she just about pissed herself laughing.
Boxers, briefs, or depends? Which do you prefer?
For the one time that I’ve worn Depends, I have to say they were pretty cool. I mean, I can’t remember my infantile days in diapers, but shit, when you pee you’d think it would just go all over the place inside there, right? But no, not in the least! Totally dry. Of course it does get rather saggy and bagged out after several urinations, but I guess that’s why they come in industrial multipacks in the first place. For general undergarment purposes, though, I prefer the hybrid boxer brief. Anyone who remembers that nut shot of Tony Hawk’s in TransWORLD knows exactly what I’m talking about.
What is some language in California that would be different then other parts of the world?
I don’t know, really. Certain urban centers here have some random linguistic shit going on—most of which sounds like what you’d imagine went on behind-the-scenes on the Muppet Show and Sesame Street once happy hour kicked in and Frank and Jim got loose with the puppets—but I generally steer clear of such queer phonetic follies.
What is the worst prank anyone has played on you since the office has been doing jackassworld?
Y’know, for all the instigative shit I’ve stirred on the sidelines I’ve remained remarkably high and dry when it comes to being the butt of any pranks. Well, that’s not entirely true, at least in the dry aspect. On two separate occasions I’ve had Knoxville and Steve-O pee on me, the former in the production office for jackass the movie and the latter in a restaurant where he peed on my leg under the table while dining with some MTV executive-types. But in general I just don’t give people what they’re looking for—a reaction—making others in the office far more enjoyable and footage-worthy targets.
Have you ever sprained your finger while flipping off the cam?
No, but I think I’m getting carpal tunnel syndrome from typing this nonsense all day. So it’s much more of a daily finger exercise than a show of bollocks.
When is the last time you have gotten drunk and taken off your shirt?
Well, if you mean in the willing sense, then that would be September of 2007 during Jeff Tremaine’s wedding weekend. If forcibly, then that would be January of 2009, when the Nitro Circus crew and Tremaine went hog-wild in Panama one night and no one’s shirt was left intact. That was an unfortunate one, though, if only because I’d stupidly worn this shirt with a collar on it that refused to tear no matter how hard it was pulled. And Andy Bell, not only is he Canadian but he is R-word strong and the next morning my neck looked like it had undergone an extremely brutal round of hickeys. Luckily I remembered everything and had the photos to prove otherwise.
Would you guys ever consider going on another road trip? If so, to where?
Yes, we would, and yes, we have. Both Missouri and Florida were bandied about, but to date nothing has transpired for any number of reasons.
What is your inspiration to get up every morning and go to the office?
Well, put it this way: To be 40-years-old and employed in this manner—who in their right mind wouldn’t hop right out of bed and run to the office like a loon? You see, occupational shit like this just isn’t supposed to exist. But in my professional world it does. Good thing, too, because I’m damaged goods in the traditional working sense and I’m not so sure I could say “Will that be paper or plastic?” without subconsciously telling the customer to “suck it” in the same verbal stride. So this sideshow suits me just fine.
(photo by Spike Jonze; Hollywood, CA; 2006)
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