Wednesday, November 6, 2013
I Hope They Serve "Weird" in Hell
I realize I'm about 7 years late to the party, but I finally started reading I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell. And I have to say, I was decently horrified at first. Yes, Tucker Max is sometimes hilarious, but he's also kind of a disgusting and terrible person. I'm not the easily offended type. In fact, offensive humor is usually my favorite kind. (i.e. Daniel Tosh, Family Guy, Always Sunny, etc.) But Tucker Max stretches beyond my offensive comfort zone--something that, until reading his book, I thought was impossible.
So, I found myself sitting on the train home last night, 70 pages in, when disappointment reared its ugly head. I sort of hate this Tucker Max guy. I don't think I can get through another 200 something pages of him. I can't believe I spent $14.99 on this. I hope the guy sitting next to me doesn't have good enough eyesight to see the sexcapade I'm currently reading.
However, being the granddaughter of a depression-era Irish woman who can stretch a dollar from here to California, I realized that giving up on the book midway through wasn't an option. I dropped significant cashola on this bad boy (mind you, I'm a student--$14.99 is significant) and dammit, I was going to get my money's worth and soldier on through this monstrosity if it killed me.
The fates must have smiled upon me for my thrifty thinking, because suddenly, something wonderful happened. As I resumed my reading, the mental image I had been carrying of Tucker Max while I read--an arrogant, weasely tool--transformed into an image of someone far preferable. Enter: Adam Devine.
Whenever I read fiction, I--like most people--create my own mental picture of what the protagonist looks like, and that's who I picture while reading. Sure, I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell is nonfiction (allegedly) so the protagonist is a real person, but why not apply the same concept and create my own mental image of the protagonist?
Replacing Tucker's face with Adam's has turned this whole book around for me. I love Adam Devine--he's so goofy and charming that he could say or do the most offensive thing in the world, and I would still probably find him adorable and want to pinch his cheeks. Reading Tucker Max's stories, but picturing Adam Devine instead of Tucker, has transformed the book from a pile of piggish and depraved acts, into a charming and hilarious series of misadventures. It basically reads like one epicly long episode of Workaholics now, and I couldn't be happier. Now that's what I call money well spent. "Let's get weird!"