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Meet the Nieratkos, part 6: Nieratko down under

Hello, my name is Chris Nieratko.

Hello, my name is Chris Nieratko. You might know me from such films as Skinema: Love on the Rocks or My Wife’s Mouth Will Not Get Pregnant. Or you may not. Either way, Vice has found me, my wife of the same name (Cris), our dog Benny and my wife’s retarded (literally) Uncle Lonnie interesting enough (maybe stupid is a better word) to share our life with you on a weekly basis. I hope you enjoy. But I know you won’t because you’re so tragically hip that you can’t enjoy the comedy of domesticity. Oh well. Tough titty.

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I just got back from Australia with Tony Hawk and the Birdhouse team. Sorry I haven’t written (I’m not sorry).

[flv:http://viceland-assets-cdn.vice.com/UK/video/VICEUK_Skinema_PornforLadies.flv http://viceland-assets-cdn.vice.com/UK/video/VICEUK_Skinema_PornforLadies.jpg 352 264]

I must tell you I feel a little cheated. It was as if I went down the Jersey shore but with accents. I saw no koalas. I saw no kangaroos. And I saw no sharks. There was a shark scare the last day at Bondi Beach but I wasn’t there. So I was not scared. Some of the guys on the trip saw some two-foot long lizards. I did not. I do not acknowledge snakes or lizards. Fuck those dudes. There was a cute little 16-year-old Californian high school drop-out on the trip that believed everything I said, despite how absurd it was. I knew the Californian school system was shite but I had no idea it was this bad. He only made it worse by being a drop-out.

Here’s the progression of a fantastic lie.

Part 1

Someone: Let’s get Chinese food!
Me: Fuck Chinese food!
Him: Why don’t you like Chinese food?
Me: Because my father was killed in Pearl Harbor.
Him: Dude. I’m sorry I didn’t know.

Part 2

Him: We should take a helicopter ride over the ocean!
Me: Fuck helicopters!
Him: Why don’t you like helicopters?
Me: Because my father was killed by a helicopter.
Him: I thought you said your dad died in Pearl Harbor?
Me: Yes, by a helicopter.

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Part 3

Him: Dude! You got to see these huge two-foot long lizards in the trees over there!
Me: Fuck lizards!
Him: Why don’t you like lizards?
Me: Because my father was killed by a lizard.
Him: I thought you said your dad died in a helicopter in Pearl Harbor?
Me: No, the Chinese were in a helicopter dropping huge lizards down and one bit my dad’s head off.
Him: No way! That’s gnarly.
Me: Yeah, it fucking sucked.

He ate it all up like he was going to the electric chair.

While I was gone, St. Patrick’s Day occurred. It is one of my favourite holidays, aside from Cinco De Mayo. It’s like drunk Christmas. And I love Christmas. Next week I’ll show you photos of my St. Patrick’s Day but check above to see how my wife’s retarded Uncle Lonnie got down. Kinda wish I was hanging with him instead of the acoustic guitar guido I was listening to.

Have you ever been to a topless beach? They’re fun but often can really suck. Beach #G at Sandy Hook in New Jersey is our nude beach. It’s 90 percent gay dudes. The other 10 percent is 90 percent old folks. 1 percent is a hot chick. Maybe. At Bondi Beach, 90 percent of the tits were good. But there were a few near-deathers without shame. In those cases I like to play the Frankenstein game and substitute parts to make the ugly lovely. I basically have to play this game at every strip club on earth to improve the view.


Hot babe (before)


Hot babe (substitute ass)

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Hot babe (substitute tits)


Hot babe (substitute vag)

I spent the last few days filming A Day in the Life with my friend Dustin Dollin for the Vans site who you might remember from one of Patrick O’Dell’s early episodes of Epicly Later’d. I’ll go into that more next week. I just wanted to point out that THIS CUNT STOLE MY BEER. Dustin took me to some show at this place in Sydney called The Art Factory and I ordered a beer, took a sip, set it down on the bar because I needed my hands to tell a story and when I turned around two seconds later my beer was gone. The world’s worst thief hadn’t even moved away with the stolen goods. She merely turned her head in an awkward position to use her long hair to shield the beer. I snuck around the other side of her and caught her as she was about to put what I can only assume is an AIDS-ridden, herpes-infested whore hole on my sacred, pure blonde. “Hey, bitch!” I yelled, “you stole my fucking beer!” Would you believe she batted her eye lashes at me as if she was going to seduce me into keeping it. She smiled big and wide revealing a mouth full of all metal, silver braces. The really shitty ones. Not even the clear ones. I yelled, “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re not even cute! Give me my fucking beer, you whore!” I took it and because I was drunk pulled out my camera and told her I would be reporting her to the police. I thought that was funny. Her and her friend got scared. Her friend blocked the girl's face with her hand to prevent the photo and they scurried off.

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I laughed at the thought of what a police officer might say if I tried to report my beer theft.


Funny cups work on so many levels …


My friends call Japs "pie faces"


So pure …


This cunt stole my beer!