Professional Idiot: A Memoir by Stephen "steve-o" Glover; David Peisner

Author:Stephen "steve-o" Glover; David Peisner
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781401303815
Publisher: Hyperion
Published: 2011-06-06T04:00:00+00:00

By the time of the first film, my love affair with dumb tattoos was in full bloom, and the first idea I submitted to Tremaine for the movie was to get a portrait of myself tattooed on my back. It took more than sixteen hours in four sessions to get it done, and I whined pretty much the whole time. The legendary artist who did it, Jack Rudy, absolutely hated working on me because I was such a pussy. I don’t think anything I’ve ever done for work was harder to get through than that. In the end though, it looked amazing and literally larger than life: every part of the portrait is bigger than its corresponding body part.

My other tattoo-related stunt was the “Off Road Tattoo.” The idea was I’d be sitting in the backseat of a Jeep getting tattooed while we drove through a motocross track in the California desert.

Everyone thought it would be cool to get a celebrity to drive the Jeep, and after some negotiations, word came down from Tremaine that Nikki Sixx was going to do it. I was completely fucking stoked. I’d idolized Mötley Crüe since I was a kid, and Nikki Sixx was the biggest badass of the bunch. The man had OD’d, flatlined, then returned from the dead to do more drugs. That day, we drove out to the desert and I brought my framed picture of me and Nikki from when I was thirteen and met him backstage in Toronto. As I waited in the white production van for him to arrive, I snorted line after line after line of coke off that framed picture. I felt like that was the greatest honor I could bestow on him. It was as if my life had come full circle: my childhood hero was coming to do a cameo in my movie.

As an SUV pulled up, Dimitry filmed me and said, “There he is. There’s your hero. Go greet him.” I hurried toward the car and the door opened. It wasn’t Nikki Sixx. It was Henry fucking Rollins. Oh, shit. I figured I was about to get my ass kicked.

I had no doubt my trash-talking a couple months earlier on Howard Stern had gotten back to Rollins—and that wasn’t the only place I’d been bad-mouthing him, only the most public. I’m sure for the Jackass guys, my getting roughed up by Rollins would’ve only added to the stunt, but he just shook my hand and said nothing about it. He was nice as could be and if he had any pent-up anger toward me, he took it out behind the wheel of that Hummer. He gunned it so hard over that jagged, dusty terrain that he broke one of the axles. Meanwhile, I bounced around furiously in the back and got painfully inked with a blurry, mangled smiley face. It’s still one of my favorite tattoos.

TREMAINE: Nikki Sixx had agreed to do it and then at the last minute, he just sort of flaked out on us, so we had to scramble.

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