From the lipstick of an alligator poking out in the family room to batshit loons sneaking into his bedroom and simplex-infecting his lip, Bam Margera has certainly racked up a lion's share of bizarre scenarios in life. And considering today is his birthday, I'd be surprised as a June bug in January Jones' jumpers if he didn't somehow manage to add one more doozy to the list. Happy Birthday, Bam!
I like food, but I would never in a million-billion years ever refer to myself as a "foodie"... unless of course it's the act of getting naked and sexy in a large vat of spaghetti and red sauce, in which case, oh yeah, fuck yeah. Otherwise, eh, I just don't get it. Especially all the close-up photos of food that populate the social network stratosphere like so many constellations of big white pustules on a fat man's sedentary ass. I know, I know, to each his own and god bless every goofy one of us in this condition called online life, and that's exactly why I champion the flipside of the digestive system. Sure it may look all pretty and prim going in, but what comes out the other side has always been the true crapple of my eye. Wonders abound at every bacterial turn of the large and small intestine as the body goes about breaking shit down, and the final output is never anything short of a daily surprise and marvel—not to mention the occasional horror show if you go in for steamed beets now and then. Still, even though I may not be able to see eye-to-eye with the foodist culture, I can be just as equal opportunity as the next gay marriage, so here, in my elasticated opinion, is the example of a perfect platter* that demands respect and admiration for its overall representational presentation. Bravo!
I've often thought and said that kids have it too easy nowadays. I'll skip the walking miles through snow and blah-fuckity-blah, but porn is now only a URL, link, and a click away, Wikipedia grants all-ages access straight to the heart of uncircumcised darkness, and anything anyone ever wanted to find out about someone is right at their happy-go-lucky fingertips with no real effort or IQ required. In short, it's become a scary damn world, and that's not even taking such things as the Patriot Act, Smart Phones, and other conspirashit into account. Celebrities, however, will always be first on the firing line when it comes to attracting the more "special" cases that stalk among us, and Bam Margera can attest to that what with his recent wacky what-the-fuck-wake-up—the "Naked Stalker Chick" story of which he goes into indepth with Tony Hawk in the video below...
It's not like I've ever been at a tremendous loss for words, but today I'd like to interrupt the usual run on stream of erratic Prickasso-like word abstractions to bring you the amazing, semi-posable Preston Lacy Crabbage Patch Doll! And that's it. There's nowhere left to go from here. Shit, maybe I should've just Instacrapped this instead...
One of the joys of being a photographer is attempting to take a group photo when there are multiple cameras in the room. And it's only really gotten worse since everyone, their mother, and even the red-headed stepchild with bruises about its face and shoulder areas now has a camera-enabled phone device. So, inevitably, the people who pose, who more often than not all have varying levels of ADHD, look every which way but loose and lose the perfect shot for all involved. It's sad, because you think four would be easily manageable—anything over six is pure eyeball ridiculousness—but such is the nutty photographic state of life in the digital world. Professional skateboarder Chris Cole joins Rob Dyrdek, Chanel West Coast, and Steelo Brim on an all-new Ridiculousness tonight at 9/10pm C on the MTV.
Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, and one barometer of the manic mood in the jackassworld.rip office could always be witnessed on the weekly-ish "live" show hosted by the one and only Rick Kosick. Some would say watching the live show as it streamed was like playing craps in Vegas and all bets were off, but I've never played craps in Vegas so I really don't know what the hell they're talking about. I'm an open-minded person though, so if they say that's what it was like then so be it. All I do know is that some played to win, some played to lose, and me... I just played along. In this particular cut-down of one such 4:20-ish show, Chris Pontius came in to spin some yarns, sing some songs, and talk about things that hadn't really been openly talked about before—particularly that one time in Russia—and it was a real trippy walk down memory lane. So come along, re-walk among us, and enjoy!
Context is everything. For a minute—and only a minute—pretend there was no such thing as jackass. No famous cackle from the even more famous face of Johnny Knoxville. No Who. No Why. No recently stalked and quite possibly very nearly raped Bam Margera. Just this grainy photo of a couple dudes in a dimly lit barn on par with what you might find in a more visceral Sawor Hostel flick, one of whom is only barely semi-clad, obviously roughed up, and painfully prone in the hay. What would you think? Perhaps something snuffly Eastern European? Deliverance is as Deliverancedoes? Just another rip roarin', hole borin' day in the hinterlands of Appalachia with a dash of southern comfort? Okay, time's up. Jackassis and always will be a silly smear on the world's underpants, so all is good, right, and natural in the universe with a purely symbiotic relationship between Ehren, the ass, and his tickled pink pals.
Life is all about balance. Yin meets yang. Good spoons evil. Dick does Jane—or Dick does Dick, or Jane does Jane, or two Dicks do Jane air tight, but that's really going a long way out of the way when I've already strayed a good ways from the way.
In other wayward words, what I'm trying to say is that one day you can come here and see bears, the next you can come and see art. Not that there isn't any art to being a bear—I've seen the denim and leather ensembles, not to mention the serious amount of manscaping work needed to maintain such facial hedgerows lining the lips and chin—but this is like real art channeled from a plane of existence occupied by Thomas Campbell's brainpan.
Like many of our longtime friends and acquaintances, Thomas emerged from the world of skateboarding in the '80s, but prior to that he most likely sprung out of some spongey moss beneath a massive redwood where a gnome ejaculated on a mushroom spore. Thomas has always lived and moved about the world with a very different perspective than most, and over the past two decades he's left a long and wonderfully varied trail of creative transmissions in his wake, including anything and everything from scribblings to paintings, photos to film-making, sculptures to installations, and any sewn-up mixed-media combinations thereof.
Now I don't know much about the world of drifting aside from Ken Block's gymkhana wizardry—bodily fluids and holes that seep them are more up my back alley—but I did once have a boss, Steve Rocco, that jumped his 1994 Range Rover Defender off a very large dirt mound, caught a substantial amount of air, and then blew out the suspension on the vehicle (and his spine) on the 100-percent flat fucking landing. I only remember and mention this now, because whoever that good ole boy in the incredibly flying truck clip was, well, hell, I gotta imagine he was rebuilt from the floor up after being tore up on that sheer amount of shock and awesome. This all-new episode of Ridiculousness airs tonight at 10/9 C on the MTV.
My first real introduction to Street Bike Tommy happened in late 2008 while they were filming for the first season of Nitro Circuson the MTV. Rick Kosick and I were visiting the set to acquire behind-the-scenes video and photos for jackassworld.rip, and it was clear from the get-go that most every cast member had little more than a whiskey throttle of an attention span.
They were sort of like the jackasscast in that sense, but dangerously compounded by the fact they were all on motorized vehicles and you really had to keep your wits about when around them—especially so with Tommy. In two instances he nearly ran me over while wildly out of control; once in California when he crashed a mini-motorbike through a fence I'd thought I'd safely situated myself behind, and the other in Utah after he bailed off a snowmobile and it skipped off my leg while I leapt to the side.
Despite these close calls, I'm always happy to run into Tommy on the random occasions that I do—he was an exceptional meaty treat to work with on jackass 3and 3.5, where his bulk came in especially handy—and I'm proud to say I know someone who has done one of the most ridiculous things I've ever seen on a motorcycle and lived to not only walk away from it but launch a whole damn career.
If you have no idea what I'm front-flipping referring to, then click on in to the video below for the origin of Street Bike Tommy...
Matchbox? More like Matchballs from my scrotal point of view (or at least up until said ballbag was masked and confined to protective pentagram custody in accordance with ancient cabalistesticular standards and practices). But this is the kind of awesome scene when you know you've made it in life: a warm and sunny afternoon with the bros in the backyard just goofing around with a $150,000 Phantom HD Gold camera. Knoxville couldn't have been more out of his head than an ADHD diabetic in a candy story on this day, and a few of us still have the scarred memories to prove it (it's true... all you have to do is mention this day to Donny "Money Shot" Anderson and he'll instantly slump his "American and Proud" shoulders in abject shame). Sure, not everything shot that day landed on the big screen—most only made it as far as jackass 3.5, some only as far as the mid-chest region—but that's not what always matters most in our world (despite what certain Line Producers may say). Sometimes you just need to do things for the sake of science.
On that note, does anyone have a line on a portable black hole yet? Don't play dumb, because Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner used to employ them all the time, so we know they're out there.
P.S. A few of the more devout disciples of the rainbow may remember this (Knoxville's intial storyboard concept for what he was envisioning on-camera).
(Photo by Sean Cliver; Los Angeles, California 2010)
The other day I finally had the chance to breathe, breathe in the air, but instead of doing so I decided to stay online and clean out the ol' email inbox. Through casual neglect and general disregard it had swelled to proportions on par with Chris Pontius's prominent protuberance, so a whackin' I went up until I ran across this little link someone had sent that I'd not bothered to click on at the time, thus making me viewer #3,559,104. Obviously a raging "late flag" has since been thrown on this clip—perhaps you were #9, #23, #69, #666 or #7734, in which case, lucky you! gold star! all that jazz! boner pie!—but for anyone else not hardwired into the world every living minute of the day, maybe, just maybe, you can be #3,559,222 and this is your chance to commune with viral dolphins and the blowholes they so saucily bare...
P.S. This kind of reminds me of the time Johnny Knoxville went to an Asian restaurant during the first season of jackass, spiked his noodle plate with poo, and then asked the staff what the mystery ingredient was—only to be told in all seriousness that it was a "bean" of some sort. Further giddy proof that one man's reality is another man's misperception and that's no misunderestimation.
Old friend and comedian Jeff Ross came by our office the other day to roast me and Jeff Tremaine for his f'ing hilarious new show The Burn. The bastard didn't hold back either—he let us both have it for about 20 damn minutes straight. Some of the topics involved my bad acting and Jeff's fat ass, so please watch The Burn tonight at 10:30pm ET/PT on Comedy Central.
Women's Rights! How's that for a left field, one liner throwback from the stickery days of jackassworld.rip? A lesser known one, I'm sure, as "Suck It" tended to be the phrase du jour for almost any and every occasion then. Well, that and "Not Now," which proved equally versatile yet never made it to adhesive infamy. ("Get With The Program" was another popular quick hitter, but that one was mostly reserved for conflict resolution within the office.) Lest I unearth any further nostalgic verbal detritus and/or off-the-cuff castaways from jackassworld.rip and bust a nutty ol' tear duct, just know that there is an all-new episode of Ridiculousness tonight on the MTV at 10/9 C, guest-starring Kat Graham.