I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell - Tucker Max I must admit that it was a funny book at least for 30 to 40 pages. Then all that random sex, projectile vomiting, and scatology just got boring.

I guess I'm supposed to say what the author and every reviewer of this book has already said: Tucker Max is an asshole, What he isn't is even more obvious. He is not a writer. There are writers who are capable of exploring their assholeness. Hunter S. Thompson and Charles Bukowski immediately comes to mind. Yet these writers wrote about much more. They placed their personality in tune with their environment. They told us about more than themselves. Tucker Max only writes about himself. The people around him are just objects to glorify his own excesses. Yes he can be funny. Some are the stories are disgustingly hilarious and I laughed in spite of myself. I laugh at fart jokes too and this book is no more than one long fart joke.

There is one exception to this. Tucker's friend Slingblade makes the book come alive at times. He is as obnoxious as Tucker but there is a true vulnerability to him that makes him three-dimensional. He could have been as memorable as Dean Moriarty or Dr. Gonzo in the hands of a real writer. But as I said, no writers at home. just an immature blogger. Sorry Slingblade.