Witness this. On the night of the Jackass Presents: Bad Grandpa premiere after-party, I stopped Jeff Tremaine's brother Dave and asked for a photo of him and pint-size terror Jackson Nicoll. He happily obliged and hoisted Jackson up high. However, while doing so, he suddenly crumpled in pain, plopped Jackson to the ground, and rolled into the bushes clutching his nuts. Quite naturally I assumed Jackson was to blame. His feet were dangling well within Dave's testicular level, and it's a well documented fact he is prone to crotch-kicking when and wherever possible. Hell, even Dave accused him of said nutting, when finally catching his breath!
However, something still smelled fishy ... and while there were no tuna boats to be seen in the immediate area, there was a Barry Smoler. And where you smell Smoler there's bound to be something afoul afoot. So I pose and present you, the dickhouse.tv jury, with Suspect A and Suspect B. Whodunnit?
If you answered Suspect B, you are correct! Turns out I had snapped all the photographic evidence, too, but was more than half in the bag to discern it at the time. Barry, I'm guessing, was fully in the bag, as he later blasted both Dave and Jackson into the pool, because that's just the kind of thing Barry (Barfy?) does. He does, after all, still hold the distinction of giving Jeff a black eye at our dearly departed friend Liz Ewart's memorial service in 2005—a blemish that managed to hold on to his orbital area for a good three or four months—so his party legacy lives on. Good job, Barry!
(All photos—aside from the pool photo—by Sean Cliver; Hollywood, California 2013)