A Duke Law School graduate, Max gained legions of fratastic fans by recounting his alcohol-addled fornication adventures on the web. Unabashedly misogynistic, utterly disrespectful and perfectly unreasonable, Max managed to do the unthinkable: he convinced young douchebags everywhere that it was OK to read. Thus, Max single-handedly achieved what the Bush administration never quite could with "No Child Left Behind:" He raised the country's literacy rate. (This assertion is not based on any intelligent deductive or research-based analysis.)
Thus, it is hardly surprising that white, heterosexual males everywhere collectively soiled their pants when Max decided to publish his escapades in "I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell" (2006), an extensive compilation of his favorite stories.
On Sept. 25, an eponymous major motion picture based on one of the book's outrageous anecdotes hit theaters in limited release. I can't speak to the merits of the film, but the book is definitely a riot.
In "Hell," Max covers everything from vomit and anal sex to excessive drinking and explosive diarrhea. Quite frequently, he combines these topics with the literary finesse of a Pulitzer Prize-winning author.
"Hell" is surprisingly hilarious, albeit in a very twisted and ironic way. Whether you're a member of Max's target audience (college-aged males) or you're one of his targets (women of all ages), you will find amusement in the sheer ridiculousness of Max's stories. Have you ever gotten laid by pretending to be a member of a Christian rock band? Tucker Max has. Have you ever shot liquefied feces all over the lobby of a Raddison hotel? No? Well, Max has a story for you.
Despite all of this, readers should beware: "Hell" is not for the faint of heart. When I say that the book is a pillar of chauvinistic excess, I tell you that with all of your best interests in mind. Moreover, if you are a member of one of the following social categories, then please do not read this book: militant feminist lesbians, sensitive heterosexual closet-cases, children under the age of seven, recovering alcoholics, cancer survivors, overweight females and the entire cast of "Grey's Anatomy." (N.B. "Hell" is fair game for gay men. Tucker thinks we are awesome.)
Although "Hell" tickles my innermost feminist and activist tendencies, I am hardly offended by Max's outrageous level of douchiness, simply because he is so unapologetic. Whether readers will choose to accept it or not, Max represents a prominent American demographic.
Max's expletive-laden, single-minded and sexually driven monologue may seem disgusting at first, but it embodies the way at least half of young American men think on a daily basis.
So, to all of you who criticize young American notions of masculinity: You should read this book. It will help you understand the thought process of most college-aged men, as well as why movies such as "I Love You, Man" (2009) and "Dude, Where's My Car" (2000) are so side-splittingly funny.
