Hello Everyone,
I just wrote the following few paragraphs to try to show off my storytelling and writing ability, in hopes that a book agent will be impressed enough to consider pitching a book deal for me. Compared to the box of video tapes I handed over to be turned into this Sunday's MTV documentary about me, the thousands of e-mails that I have archived over the years are a much scarier, and plentiful, source of material. I've definitely got a book in me, and I'm pretty sure I can write it, too:
In April of 2002, while we were in the middle of shooting the first jackass movie, I got pulled over by a cop in Beverly Hills. The tag on my license plate was expired, my Florida driver's license was suspended, and I had no insurance. The cop was really cool, he told me that I was breaking enough laws that it was a criminal matter he needed to arrest me for, but he got permission from the police station to release me on the spot after giving me an official piece of paper with a court date on it. My car wasn't so lucky, the cop told me he had no choice but to have it towed, which he did after calling me a taxi.
As I rolled away in that cab, I said goodbye to my Clown College-issued clown shoes, costume, and make-up, my juggling torches and stilts, and everything else that was in that car- because I'd decided that the tow yard could keep it. I didn't bother showing up to court, either, which wound up meaning that I had a warrant out for my arrest for six straight years, from 2002-2008. That's right, when I was waving all that marijuana around in front of those cops in 2005, I had a warrant out for my arrest. I thought it was funny, too. While I was very drunk one night, a bunch of cops stopped me to ask if they could get a photo with me, and I bluntly told them that I had a warrant out for my arrest. They asked me what my real name is and I asked, "If I tell you that, won't you have to arrest me?". They said, "Fuck no! What's your name?" I told them, then one of them looked me up and said, "Yup, you're hot for 10 G's!". They, literally, appraised my warrant, told me to enjoy the rest of my evening, and left me drunk in the streets. For years, I couldn't help but to try my ass off to get arrested, and it just wouldn't work.
For the years between 2002-2008, it made total sense to not own a car, because I wasn't ever sober. Sure, sometimes work (especially Wildboyz) kept me from being really loaded, but anytime I wasn't working, I was loaded. For my first year of sobriety, it made sense to not own a car as well, because it would have been too tempting to drive the hell out of dodge and get loaded. Not owning a car finally stopped making sense, though, so I got a California driver's license today, then went and bought a car and insurance. Check it out, it's my new Nissan Versa!
I love you all,
Steve-O