Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Creepy Comparison #43: Phenoms and Frauds


There are many, many things in life I despise. People, for example. But also posers. I hate posers. I get physically sick when I see people hamming it up, trying so desperately to be something they aren't. It makes me want to take them aside, give them a long talk on how to be a leader and not a follower, and just as they're nodding their head, grinning through a stream of emotional tears, I hit them over the head with a chair leg...because that's how I do.

About two years ago, following up on a friend's recommendation - who by the way, I now hate solely because of said recommendation - I bought Tucker Max's I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell. Now, before I really begin here, I'd just like to state that I am a huge advocate of catchy titles, whether they suck or not. For example: I Am Legend, No Country for Old Men, Cool Hand Luke, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, California Cocksuckers, etc...And I truly believe his book has an engaging title. It's alluring and ironic. Right away I assumed I had a book that would keep my attention away from the guy who smells like fresh piss and crazy lady banging the metal railing with her mud-covered hands during long subway rides.

I was wrong - the book did not help one bit. It actually made things worse.

After the first few paragraphs, I realized this guy was an asshole. And not a cool asshole like Keith Hernandez, but an asshole who deserves a foot to the face, like Bob Sagat. His stories are redundant, unfunny, and unoriginal. If a guy like this gets published telling not-so-out-of-control stories, I'm wondering if I could get published too, seeing that the centerpiece from my "hilarious drinking stories" library isn't about getting drunk and having my pants fall down while eating sushi. Wucka-Wucka!

(laugh so hard I shit my pants)

Oh, boy, that was side-splitting comedy gold.

(wipes away tear)

Anyway, this guy stinks. The fact that his book is selling stinks even more. I don't want to be a "hater" on any level (false), but I just can't help but cry out "farce" when I read shit like this. I hear better stories at the deli by my apartment, and they all speak Korean.

Hey Tucker, you got drunk in a field? BFD, I fell down stairs and shattered my faceplate - beat that! Oh, you had sex with a girl and left a shit-stain on her couch cushion? I know a guy who shit his pants in the middle of hooking up! You got another story, Tucker? Well, I got a better one.

Please, all of you faithful WMHG readers (yes, all 50 of you), if you haven't read this already, don't waste your time. Read the back of a shampoo bottle, it's much more titillating, and 10% funnier!

Oh yes, Tucker Max kind of resembles Tampa Bay 3B Evan Longoria.


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