jackassworld

The other night, Friday to be precise, I spent two hours typing this whole wall of words that I thought I could possibly highlight certain sections thereof to create the shape of a penis. The words really were secondary in this too-conceptual-for-its-own-good idea, but I still put a certain amount of effort into them just in case anyone seriously tried to digest them. But after painstakingly highlighting and hyperlinking each penile slice in the lines of the post, I went to preview the fucker only to realize that the margins of the post in Wordpress didn’t match that of the actual “blog” entry. So the big pink penis form that I’d spent way too long crafting translated into a sickly amoeba of no sexual sort whatsoever. Anyway, for all you failed DVD Easter egg hunters out there, here’s Manny straight from the goofy set of Wildboyz in 2004.

Part 10

Part 11

I’m sorry to say, you have greatly disappointed us. Our new, weird, web software is giving us back numbers that, when decoded (with the decoder ring we have and nobody else has), tell us what you’ve been doing, and, apparently, you haven’t been doing what we asked you to do: watching these Wildboyz Over and Out pieces. Instead you’ve been doing stuff like opening and closing your curtains, stealing napkins from Del Taco, emptying the flower pots out back that are filled with rain water, reading the scouting reports for your fantasy football picks, cleaning the cat litter box (stop using your hands—or at least wash them before you go to the bathroom—but it’s time to invest in a poop scoop), fishing off the end of the pier with those drunk Chinese fellas, smoking pot in the shower, in fact you’re showering a lot lately, taking pictures of the television at the airport bar, talking to your cat in fake-German when you’re home alone, switching the plugs around, rearranging the coffee mugs in the cupboard, [CENSORED], eBaying ferrets, catching up on all that Chaucer you never read, wondering whether your dog’s anal glands need cleaning, checking your bank account to see if you can pay for an anal gland cleaning, performing home anal gland cleanings by yourself, pulling nails out of 2×4s, studying the behavior of ants, experimenting with bay leaves, cinnamon, vinegar and other household ingredients in regards to your ant problem, writing frightening verse to a buck toothed girl in Luxembourg, patching the garden hose, collecting your urine in mason jars, arranging your jars of urine by color on the southern wall of your garage, asking your friends and family to send you their phone numbers (again!) because this time you lost your phone at the after-work party at Dave & Busters last Friday, changing the order in which you dress every morning, picking the pubes off the mammal soap, shopping for belts on Craig’s List, admiring the smell of your own farts, throwing out your ex-girlfriend’s incense, watching BBC News and trying to understand the rules of cricket, adding your own personal touch to your memories of mediocrity and failure, frosting your tips, scolding your socks, and stalking your ex-girlfriend. Tsk tsk. Needless to say, we are still very, very, very disappointed in you.

Part 8

Part 9

The web software appears to still be working, and apparently that homosexuality yesterday really got you in the mood? Guess what? We’re down to “very, very upset.” “Very” squared! I sure hope we reach the simply “upset” level by the time we’re done. But you really need to start watching these, AND enjoying them. What’s not to enjoy about today’s two pieces? We got the lady boys of Thailand shaking their shit and Orcas in Argentina biting the heads off of baby seals! This is amazing stuff. Obviously it’s not as amazing as footage of a baby seal biting the head off of a lady boy from Thailand. Unfortunately we do not have any footage of baby seals biting the heads off of lady boys of Thailand. No one does. Of either head. That would be epic footage, I know. And if there was anyone in the world who could get footage of a baby seal jumping out of the water and biting off the head (as I said, either head) of a lady boy of Thailand, it would be the Wildboyz. It happens. Rarely, but there have been reports of baby seals biting off the heads of lady boys. I bet if the Wildboyz decided they wanted to get that footage, they’d probably get a shot of a baby seal chomping off the lady boy’s skull, and then nippin’ off the head of her penis. That’s one hungry baby seal! Double whammy! Ouch!

Part 6

Part 7

We’re back to being very³ upset. That’s “very,” cubed. You’re being gay by not watching these Wildboyz posts. Or should I say, you’re not being gay enough. Because we know you like the gay shit. You wouldn’t be at this website reading this shit if you didn’t. And so in this double header, we’re offering you the gayest of the gay. It gets so gay, that Steve-O has a little temper tantrum. Apparently both Danny Way and Steve-O’s father got into his ear and convinced him that the show was turning a much brighter shade of pink than previous seasons and that he should probably sail the boat in the other direction for a minute. I have to agree: there’s only so long one can withstand Pontius’ advances. He’s a real Romeo and he’ll get both men and women to do things they never thought they’d do. Why, when I was in college, Chris would accompany me to frat parties. I was never in a fraternity, but I enjoyed fighting fraternity brothers. They always wanted to fight over something, plus they were perfectly harmless. It wasn’t hard to get ‘em going, but one sure fire way to get them hoppin’ mad was homosexuality. Chris and I would alert the house that we were dirty and that we needed to take a shower, thus inviting everyone to come watch the spectacle of Chris and I—nude—taking a shower together. You wanna know how to piss off a bunch of faggots who don’t think they’re faggots? Act like faggots. Boy do they hate it when you rub their faces in it. I think they were just jealous. If you’ve seen Chris’ cock—who hasn’t?—it’s no wonder. The point is, Chris has been wooing men for years now. He’s also been acting up on planes for some time now, too. There’s some real doozies! (Hopefully we can get a copy of the article he wrote about his airline escapades.) In this particular tale his airborne bad behavior causes him to miss his connection and lands him a long layover at the Black Mamba airport.

Part 4

Part 5

We’re not “very, very, very upset,” but we are “very, very upset.” Which, of course, is exactly one third less upset than we were yesterday. Yesterday we were as upset as my parents were when they saw the first Big Brother video. “Needless to say, David,” my mother said, “your father and I are very, very, very upset.” I think it was the part with me waving my dick around outside a mini van going 100mph that got their goat? Who can bame them? I know I’m still disappointed by that scene. I sometimes have nightmares that I fell out and landed on the highway and died. It’s a miracle I didn’t. Anyway, we’re slightly less upset with, but not as upset, as my mother was at me. So that’s good for you. You can whittle away at our disappointment by simply watching these goddamn Wildboyz Over and Out clips. I don’t understand why you don’t? If it’s Steve-O’s voice that bothers you—perfectly understandable for a young person your age—just turn the sound off on your computer. Why do you have it on anyway? Do you actually listen to shit out of those little, tinny speakers? You need to stop doing that. That makes me very, very, very, very upset. Anyway, Steve-O doesn’t talk that much on these two because his mouth is either full of puke, or his ass is full of Elk cock. Let’s try and get this down to at least “upset.” We’re always going to be upset with you, we just hate being anywhere near “very upset.”

When it comes to celebrating goofy days of the week or showing some kind of team spirit, count me the fuck out. Yes, that’s right, I’m one of those noncompliant jerks that purposely goes out of his way not to wear green on St. Patrick’s Day, even though I have a wee bit o’ the Irish going on with my first name (but not in my liver). Most of this stems from my formative days in school, I suspect, back when they had those designated days where everyone wore a certain color or costume for god knows what assimilatory reason. What’d they call them, pep rallies? Sorry, reindeer games are gay. Anyway, I may be a real stick in the mudchute when it comes to this stuff, but that’s no reason the site can’t play along with the theme de jour. So here you go, talk like a pirate on September 19th. Argh. Matey. Ahoy. Blow me down. Pass me the pegboy. Grrrr…

I don’t know about you, nor in some (occasionally many) instances do I want to, but I look forward to seeing a good blooper and outtake reel on most any DVD I rent or buy. If there isn’t, I feel cheated. Kind of like an involuntary fart during sex where an organism is never achieved due to uncontrollable fits of giggling. But what’s worse is when there is an outtake extra-feature and some dumbass editor or director went and turned it into a chopped up, overly dicey, slapstick music video of sorts, at which point I just want to go berserk and metaphorically drive my car into one of those sidewalk TV or movie production shoots that jam up traffic on Los Angeles surface streets. So I’m happy to say that in our dumbed down world of Dickhouse entertainment, we deliver the funny as straight as possibly can be, which, as you know, isn’t always that easy in the wonderfully ticklish and spicy world of the Wildboyz. It’s a crime this batch of Louisiana outtakes and bloopers never made it onto the DVD collection for Seasons 3 and 4, as it contains one of my most favorite quotes ever from Steve-O: “Chris, do you ever feel like you play a homosexual bulemic on TV?”

As a side note of no particular interest, my son is on the verge of losing his first tooth. It’s not quite ready to be yanked out yet, but it is rather wiggly and has somewhat impacted his ability to eat most any food not of a puke-like consistency. Consequently, my wife has become rather inventive in the kitchen to accommodate his crippled eating habits. Her most recent concoction is a pureed can of soup that has since been christened as “Bloop.” Naturally the kid loves it, because not only does it slide down his throat with ease but it’s fun to say and rhymes with “poop.”

My timing is a little off on this post, but then again time itself was a little askew throughout the whole jackassworld 24-hour takeover of the MTV studios in general. Sure, it was only on air for 24 hours in all, but there were several hundred man-hours leading up to that fateful weekend in February that made for a surreal time indeed. And it seems even more so now, if only because all of the footage slid into the jackassworld cellar so damn fast it felt just like one of those mystery poos. You know, where you know for a fact that you’ve just eked out a BM, but when you go to take that last look in the bowl prior to flushing it is nowhere to be found. Not even a smear! (more…)

So the good news is that Greg Wolf is back in the office today and taking care of business despite all handicapped odds. Yes, that’s right, he’s currently a one-armed working soldier with a slinged wing—or paw, I guess—but in two weeks he’ll be undergoing extensive shoulder reconstruction surgery following his little breakfast cereal mishap last Friday. (Not to be a tease, but the full story will soon be told in all its extraordinary glory…and goddamnit you better believe it will be worth it.) Wolfie’s currently making do with Vicodin (none of which he’ll share, the bastard), but I’m guessing he’s going to get the really good stuff post-op (not that it matters much, because if he won’t play the glad handing candy man now I doubt he’ll be cool then either). Anyway, we all hope Wolfie gets better soon and this here Wildboyz video is dedicated to the man, the myth, the lycanthrope himself. Awooooooo!

Whenever you put a major metropolitan city next to an unmitigated wilderness rife with wildlife beyond measure, you have to plan for a certain amount of acceptable loss in terms of human life. So when the city of Miami, Florida, was incorporated on July 28th, 1896, they had to know their “OG” reptilian neighbors might step up every so often to remind everyone whose block this was in the first damn place. Accordingly, no less than 20 fatal alligator attacks have since been logged in the historical record books. Some chalk this statistic up to man’s general overconfidence around the seemingly inert reptilian logs, but that’s a relative statement at best. To be sure, some people—okay, a lot of people, are just plain stupid dumb with amazingly Darwin-like powers of ignorance. But then you’re presented with someone like Manny Puig, who is, no doubt, a few stories short of a Miami high-rise, but he also fully respects the power of the animals he gets up close and personal with. Take the alligators, for instance, that he confronts on their aqueous home turf in the “Black Swamp.” This is an undeniably crazy thing to do, but what’s most crazy is that his deadpan confidence is so infectious and persuasive he’s able to get Chris Pontius and Jeff Tremaine to accompany him on a leisurely afternoon swim through this alligator-infested canal, too. And if that’s not wacko enough, he then takes them back into it at night. Fucking gnarly.