dickhouse

tonight it's jackass 3 on the mtv!

So you've seen the dementia dimensionally, now see it lay pipe on cable. Tonight at 10/9 C the MTV will be premiering jackass 3 in whatever capacity can be done for the first time ever during the course of its latest #MANCATION weekend. We won't be officially tweeting it up live along with the broadcast, but the MTV is running some other kind of promotion where you'll have the opportunity to win random shit for correctly guessing how many nuts get kicked in the course of the #MANCATION event (and if you haven't guessed it by now it's real important to use that hashtag or you ain't gonna have a corn kernel's chance in Dave England's rectal hell of winning jack shit).

(Photo by Sean Cliver; Burbank, California 2010)

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In honor of Ryan Dunn's birthday today, I've held onto this clip that was posted a few weeks ago on the Interweb spotlighting the history behind "the blown away guy" from the Maxell advertisement. This was, of course, the inspiration behind our situating Dunn behind the engine of an Aero L-39 Albatros jet fighter in jackass 3D, so it was nice to see him memorialized in the piece.

We miss you, Ryan. Not a week goes by in the office when you are not quoted warmly and fondly—my personal go-to favorites being, "Who gives a shit?" and "Eat that dick", but "N'awesome" is oft uttered as well.

(Photos by Sean Cliver; Camarillo, California 2010)

wiener vision? wiener health!

Remember how everyone was so grossed out when Bam Margera was chasing them around with his peeing wiener in jackass 3D? Well, all aside from Chris Pontius, I mean, considering he just layed there and took an ever loving earful of it for what seemed like fucking forever, but perhaps he knew then what science is only now just getting a handle on: urine's not just bodily waste after all! Turns out there may actually be a beneficial use for pee-pee instead of just plain jane elimination, golden showers, and sabotaging your Irish friends. I'm not going to get into the scientific details because I'm about three neurons short of a six-pack, but if you've the inkling for what all can done with your dingaling's tinkling, check out: http://www.popsci.com

(Photo by Sean Cliver; Agua Dulce, California 2010)

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no, it's the mashed potatoes—not the beehive

Remember the first time you stuck your penis in a beehive and realized that perhaps it wasn't the best idea? No? Not surprising. Even our dumbasses know enough not to insert your penis into one of those. Okay, yeah, I can see where the concept of a "honey pot" might sound enticing—especially if you've the marginalized gray batter of say, oh, Winnie the Pooh—but at some point during the insertion process surely a few Darwinism alarm bells are likely to go off and be accordingly heeded. So, although it made for a wonderfully charming evolutionary tale about the culling of the human herd, this "news story" about some sweaty Swede doing the dumb dicky deed and made dead was indeed a hoax. However, it would make for a great title in Helvetica Bold, don't you think? I can hear Dave England saying it now... "Hi, I'm Dave England and this is the 'Beehive Sex Toy'." Although the odds of that happening now are a pubic hair slim to absolutely fucking none. After all, he was pretty chapped about being stung up after playing "Beehive Tetherball" on jackass 3D, the movie that took a critically acclaimed upwards dump in the third dimension! Watch it now or own it forever—you be the consumer judge.

(Photos by Sean Cliver; Florida 2010)

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warning: dildos can be threatening

Up until now I've only really known two people who have experienced threatening dildo incidents. Both are well documented and known far and wide to all that have witnessed the spectacle of stupid that is and forever will be jackass 3D. The first, Johnny Knoxville, took a dildo hard—so hard—in the tooth that it did some genuine dental damage; the other, Rick Kosick, willingly sat in the line of dildo bazooka fire in a half-ass yet high-speed camera homage to William Tell's famed apple of yore, and paid a small ice pack price for doing so in the end. Throughout the history of time I am sure there are many other cases of dildos gone or done physical wrong, but this—the case of a man receiving a threatening 8-inch dildo in the mail—makes me really appreciate the absurd world we live in today. Here is yet another amazing news broadcast from the land of the free and the home of the brave:

To see photos of the actual 8-inch threat received by Ralph Polnicky: http://gawker.com

(Photos by Sean Cliver; 2010)

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he's going ... he's going somewhere

I'm going to jerk off Einstein for a second and go along with his whole time is relative concept. I mean, not to get all Principia Mathematica on y'all, but dimensionally speaking in a very broad, wholly illogical, and rather ignorant way, what happens now happened then and the future is the past and present, all pertinent participles dangling. Okay, look, before this post becomes an even bigger quantum sham than it already is, here's the Hawking deal: It was professional skateboarder Eric Koston's birthday yesterday, but I wanted to let Dave England have his day in the sun after we all baked in it on Saturday. So today we're saluting Koston. After all, he did give us one of those magical quotes during jackass the movie that many of us still employ most every day in our daily dumb lives at Dickhouse (although in an ever so slightly bastardized fashion). That said, he's going... he's going somewhere. Happy Birthday, Eric!

(Photo by Sean Cliver; Downey, California 2010)

the future is here... and the future is hard!

Not to gangbang a meme, but thanks to the good folks at NASA cock graffiti has launched to a whole new planetary level. Case in celestial point, this sweet penis drawn by one of NASA's two Rover modules tooling about on the surface of Mars. Part of me wonders if the red planet couldn't look any angrier than with this full-blown rager, but another part reflects on the time we sent our own probe to Uranus—well, Bam Margera's anus to be wholly specific.

Should the launch above look significantly different than what you may remember from jackass 3.5, that's because this was our first imperfect emission at delivering a payload into Bam's heavenly body. Apparently there was not enough forward thrust to penetrate his assmosphere, so it was back to the drawing board for a few weeks until a little more oomph could be packed into our pocket rockets. Even then we still had our fair share of limp-shipped misfires, but I hear that happens to every exploration unit at one time or another.

Prefer moon to poon? Have your sights set on Mianus? Explore the sea of tranquility that is not jackass 3.5 on Blu-ray!

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Since yesterday's adventures in the third and possibly close to turd dimension went over so well, here's one last gastric blast from Will the Farter's jackass 3D past. Plus, it keeps up our poo-poo pee-pee throw-up web cred. Anyway, you may now be asking yourself, a pastor, or a Subway sandwich artist, "How exactly did Bam get from Point A to Point C in this image?" The correct answer is a beeline straight from Will's blustery bum to Bam's mouth—utilizing a cigarette as the intermediary link between the two (yes, it does appear to be a pertinent missing link as well, but it's actually inside the styrofoam cup that Danger Ehren is holding up for a closer inspection of the partially eww juice-stained filter). By the by, this very same couch still resides within the hallowed halls of Dickhouse and has probably never received a proper cleaning… just a word to all the wise that have sat and held counsel with Tremaine and Knoxville over the years!

(Photo by Sean Cliver; 2010)

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When Neil Armstrong said, "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind," I totally know where he was coming from. We felt that exact same worldly sentiment when we boldly embraced the concept of a third dimension and went to the outer limits of our imagination with Will the Farter to plant this flag in cinema history. You know, kind of like how ol' fumble thumbs Moses went up on Mt. Sinai and came back down with the 15 Commandments etched on stone tablets, only we did it with a paltry party favor and a multi-thousand dollar RED camera rig. However, unlike Moses and his second act Exodus, ours was an out of the gate Genesis for jackass 3D in that not only was it the very first thing filmed for the movie, but the first segment in the final feature as well—excluding the opening credits sequence, of course, which was a whole other level of dumb-cum-dimensional pioneering. And, lest you think I dropped a dab of semen back there, think again, because that was nothing short of pure Latin love!

(Photo by Sean Cliver; 2010)

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It's been a good while since we've simply sat and pondered a photo for photo's sake without going out on a linked limb, so let's examine the post-pubescent, extra-spatial relationship between Chris Pontius, his balls, several other balls, and all immediate witnesses thereof. Actually, let's not, because anyone who deconstructs the meaning to anything should be tried and convicted of crimes against humanity. Okay, maybe that's going a bit overboard, but can't we all just sit and enjoy an image of a man spilling out of a common hotel elevator with his umbilicus and package presented to not only the heavens above but a hefty fraction of the Nitro Circus family—Street Bike Tommy and Andy Bell, to be precise—and the wilderiest nine-and-one-quarter fingered man on Earth, Manny Puig? I would sure hope so, but I'm naturally the hopeful sort and will spring eternal as such until the last of my pseudo-cynical waylaid days.

Tune in next week* for another negligible installment of Art Sharts to see further shots of shit** with accompanying senseless*** rants about nothing in sharticular at all!

* Complimentary cheese and crackers not included.

** Offer void in Delaware until its existence is proven otherwise.

*** Buy jackass 3 and jackass 3.5 on DVD for the full digital bitch of an experience!

(Photo by Sean Cliver; Orlando, Florida 2010)

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photo of the day: wee man and preston lacy

photo of the day: wee man and preston lacy

There are few places words cannot go. They are the great descriptive communicators and articulators of the world around us, but there are times, I find, when they should take a back seat to allow the image or artwork do all the interpretive work. An Instagram-ish argument could be made for that case (except for you photo-foodists... my jury is still well hung on that pursuit); however, I'm not so sure this is one such insta-occasion, because far too much is left in the air to hang like a pair of extra-elongated testicles on a dead calm Kansas day.

So what really is going on here? Well, it all started out on our last* day of principal shooting for jackass 3D. While the lap pool was being prepped for Johnny Knoxville to jet ski up, up and awry, Jeff Tremaine and Rick Kosick were running around filming behind-the-scenes interviews with the various cast for filler content on the official movie website. During one such Q&A conducted with Wee Man and Preston Lacy, I believe there was ye olde perennial banter about Tremaine being the ultimate used car salesman and how he can pretty much get anyone to do anything—even if it's against their better wishes or judgment, which, of course, brings us to this photo, where money finally did the talking to make Wee Man do the licking. To up the gag factor (just in case you needed such a thing) just know that it was sunny and warm in Malibu that day, which surely made Preston's custom Danger Ehren tramp stamp that much more salty and moist to the taste.

* The word "last" is always such a nebulous term when it comes to our filming run, because there are the inevitable days we'll need to accommodate for pick-ups, last minute flashes of brilliance, mega-budget re-shoots, and Knoxville's penchant for running into street signs.

(Photo by Sean Cliver; Malibu, California 2010)

 

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Presidentially speaking, I'm tired of annualy dredging up Johnny Knoxville and his horrifying reenactment of Abraham Lincoln's Gettysburg Address in full  "Beard of Leeches" get up, so you, too, must be equally anally tired. So, instead, let's pretend George Washington had nothing to do with a cherry tree and everything to do with an apple tree, because, well, I ain't got nothing but nothing when it comes to cherries. But apples—butt apples!—those I've got more than a barrel full* to go bobbing for with you, the loyal friends, fiends, followers, and fanatics of Dickhouse. Because who wants a boring old White House, anyway? Anyone can paint a house white, but not everyone can build a house out of dicks. It's like what former U.S. President Ronald Reagan once said, "There are no constraints on the human mind, no walls around the human spirit, no barriers to our progress except those we ourselves erect,” and that, by god, is exactly what we've done with our erections. Among other things, of course, but for now let's content ourselves with this.

* Whoops! Looks like Bob beat me to the punch bowl on this particular apple...

(Photo by Sean Cliver; 2010)

super bowel sunday and your face

Look, I'm just as lame as all the other companies out there trying to squeeze every ounce of marketing love juice they can get from giving the "big game" a reacharound today, but whatever. I can deal with that. Can your face, though? Preston Lacy's face might be able to, I can assure you that. I mean, how many mugs can take a direct field goal kicking shot—a professional one, mind you—and find a way to turn a quite possibly horrific frown upside down? That's the true meaning of professionalism, if you ask me. Not that you have to, or wanted to, I'm just calling the super game like I see it and that's no bowl of shit. Word.

(Photo by Sean Cliver; Winnetka, California 2010)

discounted jackass on itunes this weekend!

In functional conjunction with MTV's "Mancation Weekend" and keeping it short, fat, and to the tuna can point, this weekend you can find the entire jackass catalog on iTunes, including discounts on full seasons. Go to: iTunes.com/Jackass

Bummed on bootlegs and jonesing for authentic jackass apparel? Check out this newly updated selection of clothing articles to hide your boobs, moobs, and regrettable tattoos: http://www.popfanatics.com/search/jackass

(Photo by Sean Cliver; San Pedro, California 2010)

happy birthday to mat hoffman!

We've said it before and we'll always say it again, but you'll never meet a better (or tougher!) man than Mat Hoffman. If you have to wonder why we say that, then you obviously haven't seen The Birth of Big Air. Like, if you're feeling uninspired, just listen to some of Mat's stories and see if they don't reinvigorate your veins to go out and grab some big, bold, testicular handfuls of life. But don't take my word for it, take Evel Knievel's! Anyway, or Wee, here's a "Cheers!" to Mat on his birthday. Whee!