Looking for that special something for that special someone who is all out of dicks and so lost without one? Ship a dick! The latest cardboard craze that's erecting cardboard sensation around the nation. Or something full and chubbed out like that. Despite all Bam-ish brand appearances/proportions from jackass number two, we are in no way affiliated with said dick-shipping company, but when it comes to dicks we have nothing but (butt!) love to share. So whether you prefer them in bowls, buckets, or ye olde ports of classic entry afore and aft, ship a giant cardboard dick today: http://www.shipadick.com/products/
Okay, this one has been around a while, but what better place for wrong butt stuff to be adopted, right? Right. The language alone tells you something is bound to be slipping down the poop chute sooner or later, and my god if it doesn't come with the explosive quickness when it does. As always, this reminds me of the warm and fuzzy time Dave England shat the van during the filming of jackass the movie in 2002. It's a well known fact his tummy doesn't handle south of the border combos that well, and our usual lags in production let him stall out far too long in the danger zone while the hardware store was being scouted and plotted for toilet pranking purposes. Granted, his being tickled and jabbed in the van by a feisty Jeff Tremaine didn't help matters much, and when the backfire came it had both bark and bite, like any well hung and no longer containable shart. Lucky for all Dave was wearing pants then. I mean, can you even imagine the pooey level of devastation had he gone Ol' Faithful while having his gooch stimulated? Talk about pop music, Armageddon, and handbaskets all rolled into hellish one!
Last Thursday was not "Bring A Legendary Pro Skateboarder To Work Day" at the Dickhouse offices, but that thankfully didn't stop Scott Manning from bringing by none other than Jason Jessee himself. I'm not sure who was more happy to be in this photo—Jason or us—but we made Manning take a bunch of shots on almost all of our cameras (and every single one was a tad soft, but I guess it's not fair to hate the player *cough* Scott *cough* when it just may be the iPhone game in the end). Keeping up our old Big Brother quotes tradition, Jason did have this to say about several of Scott's early photo attempts: "My knees are showing … it looks corny."
Lord knows I wonder about a lot of random shit about shit, but what if when Mike Judge was running air up Preston Lacy's bottom during the "Butt Bellows" segment from jackass 2.5, he actually inflated a lump of poo in Preston's intestine? I mean, that would have been really interstine, right? Anyway, if it had happened, I'm guessing—no, make that wishing, it would have looked something awesome and huge like this fecal-inspired art installation currently on display over in Hong Kong of all places:
(Photo by Sean Cliver; Hollywood, California 2006)
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!
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!
This just in from Oklahoma! Oklahoma! Bam Margera and friends, a/k/a Fuckface Unstoppable, will be playing tonight in Oklahoma City at The Chameleon Room, but here he is for a sweet golden hour moment with BMX legend and all around super guy, Mat Hoffman.
People often say our office must be an awesomely fun place to work, and you know what? It is! It really is the fuckin' best. A true life "Island of the Misfit Toys" meets "Pleasure Island" in most every cartoonish way possible. Every so often though, one does have to pay the price for living this "professional" dream and today was the day that Rick Kosick's number came up as Johnny Knoxville went down in a position that has since been coined the "Rixty-Nine". Just another gust of breaking wind in the days of our Dickhouse lives!
This week I am dedicating to "What's in the news and how can it be exploited as such?" because it's good to be the king. And on that purple note, I'd like to turn your attention to the national sport of Turkey, oil wrestling! Musclebound and lubed dudes are always a hot topic for sure, but toss in some good old fashioned down-the-pants grapple holds and the phrase "umbilicus exposed to heaven" is nothing short of a good, good time. Although no lube or oil was involved in slicking the skins of Chris Pontius and Danger Ehren in 2001, there's a decidedly Turkish factor at play in this impromptu post-Nutball roustabout of theirs. Although we always suspected who came on top—I mean, came out on top in this ass grabbin' grass match, it can now, thanks to the Turkish rule book, be officially stated that Pontius was indeed the victor what with Ehren's umbilicus and a few other dingly-dangly details exposed to the heavens above Portland, Oregon.
Lacking lube in life? No muster in the mustard? Skip the scat and pick up the great jackass DVD box set featuring the best as can be collected pieces of the TV series: Buy the box set!
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.
Bam poo! Mystical though that sounds in a very Far Eastern shui, rest assured there was nothing but mouth when it came down to this number two nugget found in a horse pasture of Louisiana. As such, I'm not sure this photo constitutes hardcore coprophagy, but it's good to know that it's actually not the worst thing for your constitution if you actually had to "eat shit" (as so many have oft said but are not literally taken up on). Well, providing it came from your rectum in the first place. How do I know this? Because the Interweb told me so! Yes, along with free porn, social nitwitting, and downright piratical behaviors, all sorts of fun fecal facts like "You can eat your own poop!" are just waiting to be dabbed. Oh, for the record, and mostly because I have nothing further to say aside from the usual corny coprocentric crap, I've never dabbled in the doo-doo using my doober like a dauber.
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...
In yet another case of now-you-see-it-now-you-don't-because-it's-slightly-different-and-even-more-awesome, I'd like to twist your nipples and cast your attention out in the direction of: http://genusfotografen.se. Last week, this foreign blog was stuffed to the gills with photos of naked women hugging fish, mugging with fish, and fishing for fish. This week, however, the site has been dredged and restocked with artwork depicting naked women hugging fish, mugging with fish, and fishing for fish. I have no idea what prompted this drastic makeover—too many umlauts and words that look like "fart" but are not "fart" for my A to the D to the HD—but I think I like it. And I think the Wildboyz would, too. I mean, aside from photos of naked women being far too hetero to fathom, the combination of art, aquaculture, and sexy is enough to make even the saltiest of seamen go all sweet and gooey.
Nuts about nooses? Too turgid for tackle? Stop, pause, and ponder the packaged wonder of it all with Wildboyz Season 1, Season 2 and Seasons 3 & 4 on DVD and VOD!
(Photo by Dimitry Elyashkevich; Kenya, Africa 2004)
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.
You've all heard the one about giving a room full of chimpanzees typewriters and the odds that one of 'em will pop out the next great American novel (which isn't saying much these days but I'd sure damn love it if Samuel Clemens were around to chime in his two cents on all our pop-culture nonsense), right? Well, try this one of for size: If you give macaque a camera it's bound to film one of the greatest TV shows of all-time—Wildboyz. So much monkeying around went into this show behind-the-scenes that it's a damn wonder anything ever came back from the exotic field. But it did, and it was cut, and it was good. Damn good. And if you don't believe me then you've never given it the full measure of your monkey-ass attention span. Now's as good as time as any to get with the program while it can still be got, so check out WildboyzSeason 1, Season 2, and Seasons 3 & 4 on DVD or down to the load. All unabashed whoring aside, how awesome is it that there's a temple to macaque in Thailand?