Review

Alright, let's get one thing, um, straight. These boys are not gay. I know, it hurts to admit it, but remember, you really didn't have much of a chance of hooking up with them anyway. Here's the thing: we have never, ever known a single closeted person who would get a penis branded on his ass, or get a beer enema with a half dozen of his closest buddies standing around him, or drink horse semen in front of the Three 6 Mafia. (Oscar®-winners, represent!) Remember readers - straight men invented the circle jerk.

Nope, these incredibly heterosexual self-abusers are so confident in their sexuality that they have no qualms in sharing their shit, vomit, scrota, and in one case, 1-inch prick (but hey, at least it's proportional) with us.

God bless America and God bless Johnny Fucking Knoxville.

No question this film is incredibly funny. The stunts are inventive, the timing is perfect, and no less than The New York Times has compared them to serious artists like the surrealists. So even without hot tattooed-love-boy ass being flashed every two minutes, we would give this film a hearty recommendation.

But oh, those asses. Let's take Bam's (please). Early on, the crew does a twist on the old circus strongman / ring the bell routine... you know, where the fratboy gets a giant mallet, hits the seesaw, a little hammer goes up to ring the bell, and he wins a fucking fruitcake or something. Well, here, instead of a bell, we have Bam - pants down, and sitting on top of the tower with his ass out for all to see. And instead of a hammer, we have a dildo. Slam, zip, poke... yes it's exactly what you expect - a brilliant combination of slapstick, dada and homoeroticism. And then they show it again in slow motion!

But wait friends, that's not all... because we know you want to see Bam's ass get wrecked, right? Well, he comes through, in a way. Later in the movie, pants down again, he's leaning over a fence while Ryan Dunn is heating up a cattle brand - a cattle brand in the shape of a penis. You thought coming out to your parents was hard; wait til you see Bam going home to his parents with a fucking infected prison-tattoo-quality penis branded on his backside.

We don't want to ruin all the surprises for you, but you get at least three different sets of balls; scat fans get a few real-life turds in all sizes and consistencies; midget fetishists get a full floppy view of Jason "Wee Man" Acuña's kibbles 'n bits; Chris "Party Boy" Pontius puts his penis in bandages and taunts a snake which bites Chris' trouser snake and won't let go!

The capper, in an originally R-rated film no less, is something that would be banned in most states if Chi Chi LaRue filmed it. (Hmm, come to think of it - he did.) Yes, that wild and crazy and fuckable Steve-O lies down on his back, feet over his head, and takes an entire 12-oz bottle of beer into his rectum. As if that's not enough, once it's in there, he stands up (in great discomfort) and tries to expel it onto all the not-so-innocent bystanders... but it just dribbles out, prompting taunts that he's "peeing like a girl." Enter Bam (again), with a plunger. One pump, and... gush! It's a body shot, with benefits.

Mainstream cinema doesn't get any better than this.

A freak show for fairies, America's Faggiest Home Videos, Cornhole Camera... whatever you want to call it, these asses will make you wanna jack. Oh and we didn't even mention the big musical number at the end, punctuated by Rip Taylor. Or John Waters dressed as a magician, making Wee Man disappear. Or Ryan Dunn's balls stuck to an ice sculpture of a sheep. Or the beard made up of pubic hair.

Or... or... or... *SWOON*

 -- Handy Reed