If you’re like us, you’ve probably wondered what famous people add to their carts. Not the JAR brooch and Louis XV chair but the hair spray and the electric toothbrush. We asked Steve-O — who recently released a book titled A Hard Kick in the Nuts: What I’ve Learned From a Lifetime of Terrible Decisions and is on an extensive U.S. tour — about the birdseed he uses to lure rats onto his balcony, the dental tool he says cured his biggest regret, and the flushable wipes he says will brighten your day.
I’m a complete fucking psycho about my coffee being unbelievably hot. I think it feeds into my addiction tendencies in general. If my coffee is lukewarm, I have no impulse control — I’m just going to chug it all in one go. If it’s piping hot to the point where it’s difficult to take a sip, then I’m not going to be able to do that, and as such, it’s going to last a little longer. I actually microwave creamer before I add it so it won’t reduce the temperature of the coffee. And then I’ll put it all in my Contigo because I want it to stay so fucking scalding hot. I love my Contigo because it fits an obnoxious 24 ounces, but I also love the cool trigger mechanism you use to open it. You push this button, which opens a hatch the coffee comes out of. Also, they’re easy to get, which is great because I lose mine all the time so I’m constantly ordering more.
There’s nothing more essential to me and my girl, Lux, than our animals. Some of our animals are quite small, too, so we got pet stairs so they could get into our king-size bed. It is so fucking important that we try to squeeze all four dogs on our bed with us every single night. It’s actually so important to us that they sleep on the bed that we bribe them with treats and then we get really upset if any of them bail on us, which happens all the time. Wendy is my personal favorite. She gets all my favoritism and all my treats. I always try to bribe Wendy to come and snuggle, but she always does a dine and dash.
Here’s the ultimate example of how much Lux and I love animals: On our bedroom balcony, we have this statue of St. Francis holding a basket we fill with birdseed. One night, we discovered rats climbing onto the balcony and up the statue just to eat the birdseed. A lot of people would’ve called the exterminator to get the rat infestation fixed, but Lux and I went to buy more birdseed because we realized we have more mouths to feed. So we actually deliberately grew our rat infestation. We get all excited when the rats come out. When we see them, we get really quiet and still so we can watch them crawling. The more rats, the merrier.
We try to use the Kaytee Waste Free birdseed because we used to have to keep our leaf blower on the balcony because of the waste from all the sunflower-seed shells. Of course, what I failed to mention in all of this is that we love animals so much we built a fucking barn so we can keep three goats in our backyard. The birdseed is kind of a special treat for them, too. If I’m out on the balcony scooping seed, I’ll dump some into the backyard garden and you’ll hear those goats running. They’re nimble, too. They come running like a motherfucker.
I love Wish-Bone Italian dressing. I could happily drink an entire bottle and feel really good about it. I actually do drink Wish-bone Italian dressing sometimes because one of my favorite meals is just a can of tuna, which I eat like cat food. I open the can, dump the water into my cat’s food bowl — they love that shit — and then I pour in an obnoxious amount of Wish-bone Italian dressing. When I’m done eating the tuna, invariably there’s still an insane amount of Wish-bone in the can, and I’ll just knock it back like a shot. Truth be told, I could happily just fill a cup with Wish-bone and knock it back. The only reason I don’t is because I’m mindful of my figure.
Center is absolutely crucial for me. I use it twice every day, and it doesn’t even do anything, really. It doesn’t guide meditations on any level. It doesn’t play music. It’s just straight silence. All it does is serve as a timer to keep track of how much time you’ve been meditating.
Today was my 1,039th straight day meditating, and I average more than 40 minutes of meditating every single day. It tells me that my total time logged meditating since December 27, 2019, is 712 hours and 19 minutes. What’s funny about this is that I have no capacity for moderation at all. So if, Heaven forbid, I ever broke this streak, or if there was somehow a glitch on my phone and I didn’t keep my streak, it would all just go away. I could take or leave the actual act of meditating, but I do it because I have to keep this recorded proof on my app.
I’ve often said that my biggest regret in life is that I did not diligently floss when I was younger. When my mom was alive, whenever I was at her house, I would brush my teeth in the morning and she would still say, “God, Steve, your fucking breath is awful.” I was like, “Mom, I just brushed my teeth,” and she’d say, “I don’t care. Your fucking breath is disgusting.” My mom was so awesome. Another time I got in the van with all the Jackass guys and Wee Man says, “God, Steve, your fucking breath is so bad.” Knoxville is sitting right there and he says, “Saying Steve-O has bad breath is like saying Wee Man is short.”
What I didn’t understand then is that there are certain people whose teeth develop bacteria that no amount of brushing is ever gonna make go away, and I am one of those people. The people who have this bacteria have no way of knowing, either, because they can’t smell it themselves. So now, it’s crucial that I take good care of my mouth. I start off with my Waterpik and blast out the remnants of food that could potentially turn into bacteria. Then, I go in on the flossing. I have missing teeth that are connected with bridges, so I’ve got floss that I have to thread through the bridge. Then I brush and scrape my tongue because that’s another place the bacteria can live. And I’m such a psycho about the way I scrape that I have to get my tongue scraper so far back that anybody who knows me hears me gagging every night. If I just Waterpik and brush, it’s not enough. I have to Waterpik, floss, brush, and then scrape my tongue. Oh, and I use fluoride mouthwash.
I can’t use plain old dry toilet paper. It’s painful. It’s inefficient. I don’t know if there’s something wrong with my butthole, but if I use regular dry toilet paper after I poop, I’m going to have to find my way back to the bathroom a half hour or an hour later to wipe again. That’s why I decided to make Steve-O’s Butt Wipes for Your Butthole. For me to enter this space is a story of David and Goliath, but I really am seeking to become the Martha Stewart of butthole products. Our inaugural order for these was 10,050 packs, which comes out to about half a million wipes. We cut no corners. There’s nothing cheap or low-grade about them. They’re every bit the quality of any flushable butt wipe on the market, and actually, they’re better. We did a sampling process with different types of wipes and everything. There’s not a single toilet in the world that is not going to be more enjoyable for having a pack of Steve-O’s Butt Wipes for Your Butthole on top.
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