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Think of the most deplorable human being you know. Take that person and multiply it ten times. If you did that you would have Tucker Max. The back cover of I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell pulls no punches:
My name is Tucker Max, and I am an asshole. I get excessively drunk at inappropriate times, disregard social norms, indulge every whim, ignore the consequences of my actions, mock idiots and posers, sleep with more women than is safe or reasonable, and just generally act like a raging dickhead.
If I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell's back jacket description is not an enticing enough invitation, its cover depicts a Max with a bottle of bubbly in one hand and a woman - her face cut out and and replaced with "YOUR FACE HERE" - on the other. In his twisted world of no holds barred narcissism, Max is promoting the dream of chauvinist males everywhere; everything you ever wanted can be yours with total disregard for society at large.
Throughout the course of the book, Max recounts various events from his past, the earliest entry being from 1994. Most of the tales revolve around how drunk Max gets (see "The Tucker Max Drunk Scale" in the back of the book), his sexual exploits, and how many people he has made fun of. In one of the early stories in the book, a friend of Max's stumbles into a restaurant table, disrupting the evening of a couple enjoying drinks. The woman abruptly gets up and angrily leaves, at which point Max turns to the man and flatly states, "No reason to fight now, your bitch already left." Some of his less-that-cordial interactions are pretty funny; upon rendezvousing with a woman he met in Tennessee, Max is asked for a massage, prompting his reply: "Right. The only way I'm doing that is if it's a post-coital activity." The woman, displaying her lack of linguistic prowess, counters with "What? I don't speak Spanish."
On a comedic level I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell works well. Often I found myself laughing out load and trying to imagine some of the people that Max interacts with through his stories. After reading through this book, especially the last story (appropriately titled "The Worst Tucker Story Ever"), you might hate Max or you might scratch your head, like I did, wondering where this man came from and how he acquired his strange mannerisms. Regardless, I cannot wait for the next book from the worst person on the planet. SEE ALSO: www.tuckermax.com
SEE ALSO: www.kensingtonbooks.com
Hailing from Indianapolis, Indiana, Nate Logan is a contributing writer to LAS who will be going to Minnesota in the fall to pursue a MFA in poetry. He hopes to develop some weird accent as a result of his time in the North.
See other articles by Nate Logan.
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