Dir: Mike D
Evilangel.com As a young child I remember being told all girls in Hollywood take it in the ass and not believing it. Then I moved there and confirmed it to be true. I don't think I had lived in Los Angeles for more than a week before I started realizing women there entered rooms backward, indicating that their ass was ripe for the taking. Initially I thought it was some acting-class exercise where they needed to walk, talk, and act backward, but nope. They just wanted butt sex. Recently a very near-and-dear friend of mine from those early days in California passed away. He and I were known to pal around and find ourselves knee-deep in the shit. I remember we were banging these two roommates for a short while. The one I was messing with nearly died on me while I was plundering her ass. She started choking on her own vomit from excessive cocaine misuse. (Obviously, she did not know how to use cocaine…) I think it's one of the first stories in my VICE book, Skinema. At the time, this girl was dating some semi-famous rock star. I never bothered to find out his name or what band he was from. Seems I was supposed to, because when the book was released a half decade ago, it was the one piece of information that stopped me from promoting the book on The Howard Stern Show. They were interested in discussing the rock star who was outside the girl's window crying as I banged his girlfriend. They thought I was withholding information, when in reality my drug-addled mind had no recall, if it ever knew at all. In later years I believe Johnny Knoxville did some investigating and found out who the guy was—not that it matters now. There was this other time right around the turn of the century with these roommates and my late, great friend in the first Emerica mansion. Emerica had rented this palace in the Hollywood Hills for the riders to live in as they were filmed. After everyone moved out, there were a few months where my buddy and I had free rein of the place to use as our own sort of brothel/drug den, which I believe wasn't much different from how the team used it while they resided there. I remember the carpets being crunchy fr semen, blood, booze, and bong water. Had the police ever used one of those UV lights to detect DNA at the mansion, the bulb would have shattered with a whimper. In our final days before the lease expired, we made certain that a memory had been made in each and every corner of the house. I remember opening a walk-in closet to find the rock star's girlfriend's roommate on top of my buddy with his small dog licking his balls and the girl's butthole in a mad frenzy. Neither seemed fazed. We decided to go to a different room. More stupid can be found at chrisnieratko.com or @nieratko on the Twitter.
Dir: Mike D