jackassworld

Once upon a time in publishing history, Mad Magazine was the go-to-shit for juvenile humor just left of the mainstream. I don’t know what it’s like now, I eventually found my own localized pot of juvenile humor to stew in, but one of my more favorite departments back then was Spy vs. Spy: a one-page comic strip featuring the perpetually backfiring plots of Mr. Black and Mr. White (not to be confused with any of the other colorful misters portrayed in Reservoir Dogs) to off each other. Anyway, in this flashback to a somewhat Spy vs. Spy encounter between Johnny Knoxville and Danger Ehren, the two engaged in a seemingly innocent “Harm Wrestling” match with rat traps, but the dastardly truth was that a whole lot more “rat” was going on here than just the traps themselves. (more…)

Surprise, Trip and Knate! While you were sleeping your friends took photos that make the two of you look like reference material for a David Hockney painting.

I am not affiliated nor endorsed by the studio and/or marketing campaign to promote Paranormal Activity, but the trailer for this new Blair Witch on the block certainly did raise a good point: What the fuck does go on while we’re sleeping? I mean, for the majority of the waking day our guard is up and ready to take evasive action at the drop of a potentially bad hat, but then each and every night we simply shut down our defensive positions to curl up like innocent babes ready for slaughter. You would think evolution would’ve done something about this incredibly vulnerable situation by now, but even through the Pavlovian tactics employed by members of the traveling Wildboyz cast and crew, e.g. the Black Mamba, people still succumbed to unguarded sleep (actually, most of them didn’t have a choice, seeing as these trips, exotic though they may be, were far from anything vacation-like). Just part of being a human, I guess, but damn. Where’s Dr. Peter Venkman when you need him the most?
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For almost every time a guest star appeared on Wildboyz, the cast and crew inevitably mobbed up for the obligatory photo op session. These moments usually entailed more than a few camera people on the clicking end (”Hey, take one with my camera!” “Mine, too!” “Wait, mine’s in my backpack, can you grab it?”) and that’s the reason everyone is looking every which way but straight—effectively spoiling each and every shot. On this particularly starry day on the sands of Santa Monica, CA, there was one and only one reason everyone wanted to be mobbed deep in this shot and that was to be seen next to (or relatively near) the man, the myth, the Knight Rider himself: David Hasselhoff. No shit, people were jumping into this shot faster than you can type “Don’t hassle the Hoff” for your thoroughly unoriginal comment below, including some suspicious looking guy related to a certain corporate entity that shall go unnamed at present for no reason in particular. Anyway, way to blink and ruin the shot, Wolfie. (more…)

It’s that celebratory time of year again, when I wonder aloud how in the whole wide world was it possible for two darn near angelic parents to conceive a damn near hell spawn of a bouncing baby boy. But it certainly has made for an eventful life and times in the Margera household and I know Phil and April wouldn’t have had it any other way. So, in celebration of Bam’s birth on earth, here’s a montage of moments spanning the last eleven odd years of his life on CKY and jackass.

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…or is it Manny Duke? Dull was never a descriptive word for a Wildboyz day on the road. Well, that’s not entirely true. I remember hearing about some truly grueling plane trips, the likes of which are only made somewhat more bearable by the presence of Mr. Ambien, Monsieur Merlot, or, if Loomis Fall was aboard for the long haul, Captain Morgan. Of course any combination of the above was liable to suck the dull right back out of the trip and make it either ridiculously funny or absolutely horrifying, depending upon where you were seated in the aeroplane. If that happened to be anywhere near the vicinity of Chris Pontius then it was generally the latter, but he was also prone to getting completely lost in such a cocktailed state that most everyone on the plane was fair game for a mid-flight atrocity. For instance, there was this one time he had to go to the bathroom. So he got up, stumbled down the aisle, realized there was a rather long wait for the loo, and proceeded to piddle right there where he was standing—much to the delight of nearby passengers and exasperated flight attendants. So, for most of the air-traveling world, maybe it’s a good thing that the Wildboyz became extinct in late 2005?

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…they all are! They’re all winners! No, just kidding. Special though we may be at times, this is not that kind of event. Because life is made up of winners and losers, and to win or to lose is what ultimately shapes us into the competitive human race that we are today. And, true to life, we’re not here to celebrate the losers—just the winners! So here they are:

The Best of The Purple Pony Chronicles: Steve-O and Chris Pontius

The Best Overuse of a Prop: Stun Gun Brass Knuckles

The Best of One Bourbon, One Scotch, and One Beer: Mat Hoffman

The Best Slam: Johnny Knoxville in Mat Hoffman’s Tribute to Evel Knievel

The Best of My Awesome Crap: Johnny Knoxville

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Well kids, we made it to fifteen! I can’t believe you have tolerated me for this long, but I tend to think it’s only because you like seeing us open your stuff on camera, and not because you think I am a talented on-air personality. Either way, we are fifteen strong now, and are aiming for a “Sweet 16″ sometime in the near future. I can’t thank you all enough for all of the sweet stuff that you send us. We have gotten some great (and, to be fair, some not so great) gifts over the last year-and-a-half, and we could not have done it without all of your love and support. (more…)

So is this what it looks like when doves cry? No, not really. Dave England is far from a dove, because—trust me—there is no peace when Darf is up and careening about. But all things aside, would it be wrong for me to take some small amount of absurd solace to know that if by a ridiculously random million in a billion chance you were suddenly struck by lightning or, better yet, to spontaneously combust, this would be the last image you would take on up with you to that happy hunting ground in the sky? Provided you played your good and evil cards in life right, that is, and the good St. Peter didn’t demote you to an eternity of doing never ending laps in an Olympic-size pool of boiling shit and piss (in which case your tuchas might look a bit like this, too). Regardless, no matter how well you play your cards, sometimes the deck is just stacked against you. Hopefully you’ve made the best of it. God knows we have.

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“i’m not really gay … i’m more of a jack-off in front of the mirror guy.”
—chris pontius

“would anyone mind if i stabbed kosick?”
—johnny knoxville, while holding a fork at dinner with the crew following the one bourbon shoot with mike judge (three days later he stabbed sean cliver instead)

“his eyes pour forth light from heaven.”
—lauren graham, describing her jared leto sighting in hollywood

“if you drown with a life vest on you are a loser.”
—rick kosick, talking to wolfie about learning to swim

“don’t thank me, thank kfc.”
—preston lacy, on his being great boat ballast for wakesurfing

“i didn’t even know he did it i’m so blown out down there.”
—johnny knoxville, after returning from a routine urethra check-up at the doctor’s office

“we all have our addictions. some of us buy crack. others buy obscure k-tel records from the ’70s.”
—mike g., defending wolfie’s … elclectic? … music collection

“if i do this all day will you guys do my work for me?”
—shanna, while trying her hands at the shake weight™

“your grandmother is a fucking whore. because you know who makes stuff with velvet? whores.”
—jeff tremaine, complimenting one of the nitro circus editors on his velvet jacket

I … I just don’t know what to say about this. Yes, that’s right, ol’ diarrhea fingers here is at a total loss for words, nonsensical or otherwise. Just know that all your obsessive-compulsive hopes and dreams are about to come true on October 13th, when Santa Claus and his merry bucket of fried chicken get sprung from purgatory with all the other previously “not on DVD” and “unseen” segments. To pre-order jackass: the lost tapes on DVD, grab your parents’ credit card (one that might actually still work), and go here: http://www.amazon.com/Jackass-Lost-Tapes

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