jackassworld

To close out the work week on a high note here is another enlightening glimpse into the psychological Thunderdome that occasionally doubles as the jackassworld office environment. But first a little back story lest this left field barrage leave you clueless and aghast. (more…)

I have been known as “smart,” and “worthy,” but in this “discourse” I will touch briefly on the key things in the world that I know nothing about, and never hope to. Therefore I ask that you post no comments concerning this piece, and simply sink in pity for my lost self. (more…)

Black girls.

They’re growing on me. Dark boobs, neat. In the past I have swayed from the African Americans but after living in LA for a number of years I have changed my mind and soon wish to hook up with a black chick. My friend Dennis McGrath is really down: for a long time all he dated was black chicks, he loves ‘em.

Over the weekend I lit a black chick’s cigarette. She was wearing a bikini top and I glanced at her boobs. They were real nice ones, and this is right when I switched over to liking this kind of stuff, almost more than white chicks, which for a while was my mainstay. (more…)

I lived out of a backpack before I moved in here. Instead of buying one bar of soap, etc., it was my dream to have a place like this where I could stock up on all that stuff and now have half a drawer of soap. (more…)

Earl Parker is the legendary former editor and head writer on Big Brother magazine. In his earliest and most desperate days on the job in 1992, Jeff Tremaine was not only his boss but his sole benefactor. Every morning, Jeff would walk into the one room magazine office that doubled as Earl’s bedroom and toss him a package of pink Hostess snowballs and a bottle of Cherry Bomb blue drink for breakfast. It is still debated to this day whether or not this forced diet had an adverse affect upon Earl. (more…)

Their father they noticed was running through backyards as they watched. The kids changed the channel just in time; there were no more boobies: the boobie show had been turned off in the knick of time. This incident was not the first in America of its kind. It had been happening for a while: parents that were trying to raise unboobie children.

I was raised in the same respect. No boobie shows for you, just corn; not that damned Cinemax. But I wanted to be a boobie boy, and I managed to collect a cache of magazines, though the boobies did not move like on the TV or in the realm of real boobies.

I like to make collages of boobies and I like to look at boobies hidden by cloth at social events where I am a real winner. People sometimes think I am odd, but it is just because I don’t talk because I am thinking about boobies all the time. They come in lots of colors and someday I hope to put my face into orange ones. That would be a lucky day.

I have altered my path towards the boobies only to find out that I have a headache and that I should have sucked on those things a bit more. For now I will subscribe to your interests and reenact this American way of thinking where boobies are bad and I have been raised accordingly.

This Place

This place where you hang out is just this dumb little creation that even has a little moon so your dumb ass can see at night.

Fact 1: the dumber you are the more money you have. Dumb yourself down and find riches!

The moon is supposed to turn a shade of red when the dumb Jesus comes and it’s revelation time. By the way all the punctuation in the bible is incorrect.

Look at the neat little moon. Yes, it’s true this place is this cheap ass place where idiots reign fueled by this dumb big glowing ball that lights it all up and on sunny days you “go out and do somethin’.”

The world is all I’ve ever known. They (the gods) keep other planets at a distance, but we couldn’t make things happen there anyway because the earth is the perfect place for life to happen and the other planets are whacked for it.

Do you like my writing? That’s all fine and dandy, but when this big ball crashes into the sun you’re not gonna be like, “I like Earl’s writing, this isn’t happenin’.”

No. Pleasure is the chief good: known as hedonism is prevalent and does justice in these circumstances. What else do you have going for you? You gonna sit around in the country and stare at the little moon?

All five episodes from the jackass gumball rally special, right where you can find them—here!

I first discovered a Russian doctor in my neighborhood because I needed help. All these crazy art people were fucking with me and there was no way out but become my own art scene, but first I needed medical help: coming to California had boosted my medical problems and I was now suffering. I had in-grown toenails, a distended prostate, and no agent.

It was crazy, everyone in the office was Russian and they all spoke in this crazy language, very international, LA muy bueno. My doctor helped with all my medical needs and a podiatrist dude came in one day and when he removed my fucked toenail I yelled “fuck” out loud in the office.

Another time there was all these art people that got all around me saying all this shit about stupid art at an art show and the next day I had an abscess on my butt. It was the most pain I had ever been through, but I had a doctor so I went to see her and she sent me to another doctor and with the help of a cute assistant, they drained the thing and then I went out and got laid.

Today I am fine. I went to my doctor yesterday and she said, “You haven’t had a blood test since 2005,” and I was like, “I don’t want to have anything to do with that shit.” I still have a tiny red mark on my arm where they made me do it. I’m not scared of those tests really, seriously, I am no pussy, but I think they’re disgusting. At any rate she gave me some water and I walked out with a cotton swab on my arm.

I will continue to use my doctor to get free condoms for having sex with girls and shit. And the lady told me about lubricant—it makes sex more fun, glides easier! The art people are long gone now and I am my own art scene cuz my doctor told me all those drug addicts are stupid and that I should get a place right by the doctor office so I can suffer, in peace.

For the unaware, uninitiated, and unsure, jackassworld live is every Wednesday at 4:20pm-ish PST. PST stands for “Pacific Standard Time” and applies to a geographical slice of the globe that includes California and other places. If you don’t live in California (or those other places) then you’re going to have to maximize your synapses by figuring out where in time you exist in relation to our global position. For help in doing so, go here: http://www.timeanddate.com/worldclock/