dickhouse

tyler the creator v. andy bell's underpants

Like any stoned, cold Christmas elf will tell you, it's not about the present it's all about the package. So this week I'm wrapping it up all pretty and shit with a friendly nod to Tyler the Creator's contribution to Vice and Project X's Party Legends series and an historical ode to Andy Bell's underpants.

In yesterday's animated storytime tale, Johnny Knoxville reminisced about a mousetrap, a man, a penis, a hammer, and a thoroughly unamused girlfriend. Today, Tyler gives it memory hell with a walk down party lane involving two men, a machete, and a police raid. The only thing really missing from the Malibu scene was Bam Margera, a string of anal beads, and a kite, but who would ever believe something like that could happen in a million-billion years? Paramount!

Lastly, as promised, here is a shot of Andy Bell's underpants from 2009. They were found abandoned on the floor of the jackassworld.rip offices the morning after a certain taping for One Bourbon, One Scotch and One Beer went down, awry, and somewhat south, and promptly "chalk-lined" for posterity. We lost many things in the fire, you could say, asbestos or no asbestos, so it's always nice to come across a surviving relic as proof of an online time that some may never believe happened in the first place. Devilcock!

 

(Photo by Johnny Knoxville; Hollywood, California 2009)

johnny knoxville tells vice a story

If you happened to read yesterday's post about mi vida culebra then you know I'm all about the tropical life, of which a big part of my day-to-day dickings involves sangria-in-a-box. Call it a cultural low, but I'm high on lazy-ass life whenever I twist off the cap on a dry-heave-hot and sunny afternoon to get shit-deep in what amounts to alcoholic Kool-Aid. That said, here is today's shortcut to thinking with a press release direct from Vice regarding a story* Johnny Knoxville told them for its Party Legends series:

VICE and the upcoming feature film, Project X, announces its new video series, Party Legends: An Oral History of Absolute Insanity. Project X, produced by Todd Phillips of The Hangover and Old School, is an outrageous party gone extremely wrong... or right, depending on your views on booze, girls, pools and drug-filled suburban ragers. Inspired by Project X, VICE rounded up some celebrities with legendary party pasts and asked them to tell us their most ridiculous anecdotes. We then called on our favorite animators to bring the raunchy, raucous, raging stories to life.

VICE and Project X's Party Legends presents Johnny Knoxville's crazy party story. In this installment of Party Legends, Knoxville and his jackass buds hit up a bar and start messing around with some spare mousetraps. A random dude offers to take a mousetrap to the man parts, which inevitably leads to the mousetrapping of other sensitive extremities. Then a hammer gets involved. And things explode.

Your turn. Enter your craziest party story at www.facebook.com/projectx and Project X hits theaters March 2nd.

* If this is the same hammer-to-the-penis night I'm thinking it is, circa 2002, I'd like to personally thank that fellow for taking some heat off me and my birthday that night. Somewhere in the midst of his diversion I'd like to think it allowed me enough paranoid time to freak out, slip out the door, and run off into the dark Deliverance-style down back streets, through backyards, and over a freeway until I finally reached the relative safety of my hotel room—which I then sufficiently barricaded as well. Like I said, it was an extremely paranoid night, but by god I was not going to go down squealing like a pig.

wildboyz: an education

To many people, Wildboyz was just a homopsychotic show about two wildery dudes crashing about the globe in search of exotic cultures and wildlife to meet, greet and molest. The scary truth, however, is that it was a next level nature program educationally on par with any top shelf BBC Films endeavor, e.g. Blue Planet: Seas of Life, The Life of Mammals, Planet Earth, et al. Sure, we may not have had all the hot shit cameras and the luxury of hanging about for months on end waiting for those magic Mother Nature moments, but the crew still managed to make much ado about everything from Kudu doo-doo to jumping in the water right beside Carcharodon carcharias—the great white shark. Wildboyz provided that crucial missing link between Sir David Attenborough and the common man; a bridge to truly understanding the relationships, however ticklish or dangerous they may be, between man and beast ... or fish ... or fowl. Because if Steve-O and Chris Pontius didn't, how would you have ever known?

Little did I know at the time I was working on Wildboyz circa 2003–2005 that I would one day be living in the jungle myself. Yeah, for years I'd lived in Axl Rose's definition of the jungle, but nature has proven time and time again that any hardened city dweller is the first to show their soft-belly out in the wild. So I can honestly say that without Wildboyz I may not be half the tropical man I am today living in Costa Rica. Why, just last night, I had to remove a four-foot green racer (above) from our second story veranda. This type of snake is harmless to humans—it's rear-fanged with a minor venom suitable for its primary prey of frogs and rats—but it still proved to be a feisty fucker and put on a good show as I grabbed the closest available sissy stick and proceeded to annoy the piss out of it. I'm no David Weathers so it took a good bit of time to awkwardly oust the snake ... just enough to remind me I'm considerably far off from hosting any Fer-de-Lance dance parties.

Snakey photos clockwise from top left: Brown Vine Snake; Boa Constrictor; Common Road Guarder; and the Central American Coral Snake.

Despite our rather remote location in Guanacaste, I have yet to see half the snakes I thought I would by now. The jungle that surrounds us is famously known to harbor beefy boas and a fair amount of neotropical rattlesnakes, a/k/a cascabels, but to date we've only had a garden variety of mothafucking species cross our mothafucking yard, the deadliest being a fruity little pool-dipping Central American coral snake, which wasn't much bigger than a novelty-size pencil—albeit a killer pencil nonetheless.

Does macaque get thirsty in the middle of the night? What do kissing cousins and fainting goats have in common? Equip yourself accordingly with Wildboyz Season 1, Season 2, and Seasons 3 & 4 on DVD before animals attack and make a Timothy Treadwell mess of you!

(All photos by Sean Cliver; Guanacaste, Costa Rica)

one bourbon, one scotch and one beer with andy bell

Far be it from me to stray from a theme, so let's stick like a spear to a baby harp seal and learn more about Andy Bell, everyone's favorite washed-up motocross rider from Nitro Circus. What better way to do so than with this particular jackassworld.rip refugee in which Johnny Knoxville goes one-on-one and liver-to-liver with Bell on the late, great One Bourbon, One Scotch and One Beer. Warning: If you're not long in the tooth and considerably short on attention span, I suggest you skip ahead to Part 3 and get to the real marinated Thanksgiving meat of this talking head matter. Gobble, gobble!

Oh yeah, and not to generalize or anything, but here I go! What is it about the people that live in the attic of the United States and their alcohol tolerance? Seriously, instead of displaying its famously depressant effects, Canadians get all hopped-up and Quasimodo-strong like they're drinking liquid PCP. It's something I've never understood. And always feared. Ever since 1996 and a certain "Boozy the Clown" exposé we did for Blunt Magazine. Damn you, Kearns and Johnson!

Part 1:

Part 2:

Part 3:

Flux capacitor on the fritz? Hyper drive not making the jump to light speed? Grab a big wheel and keep on turning with Nitro Circus Season 1 and Season 2 on DVD.

the definition of "nitro circus"

In this fast-paced world of pop-culture and the diarrhea of slang that engulfs it, it certainly does help to have such services as Urban Dictionary just a moment's click away. Like, for instance, if you're accosted by some common thug and he threatens to bust a cap in your dome, or say you're out on a date and the person asks if you're down to Stallone, a/k/a Shia Labeouf, after dinner. No one wants to take a premature dirtnap, much less find themselves on the giving and/or receiving end of some sensüal shit in the mouth, so it really is beneficial to have an understanding of what's being said before said goes down. Beyond mere words though, it's even more important to have a broad awareness of the pop-culture medium itself because the two go hand-in-fucking-glove these days. Otherwise, how the heck are you ever gonna keep up conversational pace with the likes of Douglas Coupland or Mark Lewman? Consider this following email sent from Jim DeChamp, a/k/a T-Rex, after he looked up "Nitro Circus" on the Slangbot app:

I found this word using Slangbot:

NITRO CIRCUS

Definition: Like jackass, but where tricks aren't designed to fail and no-one waves their dick at the camera.

Example:

Guy #1: Guess what, dude?! Pete prefers jackass to Nitro Circus.

Guy #2: Wow, what a gay.

The irony, of course, is that the recipient of this Slangbot definition was Andy Bell, the featured rider above who is all but leaking scrotal brains from Season 2 of Nitro Circus on MTV. Arguably, these were the Dickhouse years of the Nitro crew, but if you knew Bell like I knew Bell then you'd damn well know this is a case of Canadian nature and not Rainbow nurture. Now if only I could share the full extent of this nature with my photos from the day Andy visited the jackass 3D set one day and shared a hamburger, Jenna Jameson, sailboat, and squirrel on a trampoline with all of us*.

* If your name is Jeff Tremaine or Danger Ehren and you have no recollection of this fantastic show 'n' tell experience filmed for absolutely no reason in super megabuck 3D, that's because you ditched out early to instead attend a Los Angeles Lakers playoff game. Priorities, priorities...

(Photo by Sean Cliver; Riverside, California 2009)

please help out our friend marc nesbitt

We recently learned that our friend Marc Nesbitt, who we first met while working on the jackass video game in 2007 (the shot above was taken during the making of the jackass video game special for MTV), has a rare form of brain tumor called a medulloblastoma. The physical toll that the tumor and chemotherapy sessions are taking is staggering alone, but the financial aspect isn't helping matters either. To learn more about Marc and his condition, or to make a monetary contribution, please visit: http://www.marcnesbitt.com

(Photo by Sean Cliver; Los Angeles, California 2007)

big brother trash back ass man: jeff tremaine

The year was 1995. The location, New Orleans, Louisiana. The occasion, Mardi Gras. The shitbag, Jeff Tremaine. Yes, long before he was a paragon of entertainment production, Tremaine was a purveyor of filth as the Art/Editorial Director on Big Brother skateboard magazine. Saddled with said responsibilities, Tremaine was generally a slave to the mouse and not always able to participate in reindeer games with all the other staff members. However, every so often a tour of grand proportions would come along, in which case Tremaine was the first out the door, red hot and ready to rock. His finest on the road performance was, without a doubt, the Big Brother Mardi Gras tour*. He was a man possessed, fresh out of a long term relationship and ready to bottom out hard—so hard. This roll in the trash, for instance, was but one of many such antics that took place between the proving grounds of 6th Street in Austin, Texas ("Cowboy down!") and the last stand in New Orleans ("Harley down!"). If you're the type of person that loves a good quest, see if you can track down Big Brother Issue 17 for the full account of 14 random ass people—including Rob Dyrdek, Steve Berra, and Ed Templeton—and their descent into Tremaine's heart of darkness. Suck it, Brando!

This photo was also reprinted within the pages of jackass: 10 years of stupid, which can now be found on Amazon from the culo tickling out-of-print prices of $79.95–$999.99. What a bargain!

* As featured in the first Big Brother skateboard video shit (1995).

(Photo by Sean Cliver; New Orleans, Louisiana 1995)

did you really do everything kind?

LOS ANGELES, CA—In honor of all the work Rob Dyrdek has done building seven skate parks in Los Angeles, the city has deemed February 1st as "Rob Dyrdek Day". Rob wanted to make this a holiday of kindness and he asks everyone to take the day to do everything completely kind.

So, at the end of the day, can you ask yourself DYRDEK?*

Congratulations, Rob**!

* D(id)Y(ou)R(eally)D(o)E(verything)K(ind)?

** That's coming from me, personally, because at my age and interest I truly do appreciate those smooth, stepped manual pads at the North Hollywood park. Especially so since they're not squeezed in on the edge of a 12-foot deep padded-warrior dino-bowl.

an odd fucking outtake from terry's world

Remember when "double rainbows" were all the viral rage? Did that come after the "surprised kitty" or before the "sneezing panda"? Better yet, who gives a shit? By the time everyone wakes up to smell the distraction, millions of dead memes will be buried under the rubbish of a billion other self-obsessed hopes and dreams and insidious marketing rim shots not heard round the world. But every once in a while you'll find something tossed out onto the super information byways that merits a good rubbernecking, e.g. this Terry Richardson shot of Taco in officially licensed Dickhouse apparel! To find this hooded sweatshirt and more, check the full line out at: http://www.merchmethod.com/dickhouse

Fancy yourself a photo aficionado? Stifle of a fistful of giggles whenever you see FLICK in capital letters? Point, click and shoot your way over to Terry's world for a good time: http://www.terrysdiary.com

monday ups with wee man

Good morning, Dorothy. It's Monday. Monday is as Monday does, so let's ease on down the weekday road with Wee Man as he jumps and clicks his P. Lacy heels for joy against all gravitational odds. I'd like to say we have a few special things in our online plumbing works, but it's best I not promise any shit that my ass can't pass ... at least not until I feel the prominent head of a turtle touching cloth. In the meantime, while the fate of our universe hangs brains, trip on this: 1) Cue up Pink Floyd's The Dark Side Of The Moon; 2) Click Wee Man's crotch in photo above three times; 3) On the third click simultaneously hit play to start the music; 4) Continue to stare at the photo for the duration of the album until you see the suicidal ostrich hanging from a pop-tent in the background; 5) Carry on, my wayward son.

Watched any good dogs lately? Can't see the DeVito through the Schwarzenegger? Stop being such a foreigner and get your diplopic kicks with jackass 3 on Blu-ray/DVD.

(Photo by Sean Cliver; Los Angeles, California 2010)