Vox vs Tucker Max

After following the link from Bane’s site, I spent a fair bit of time laughing until I nearly expired while following the intoxicated meanderings of an ego writ large. It made me feel rather good about myself, because I never realized until today that while I may have been extraordinarily inconsiderate and borderline sexually sociopathic prior to meeting Space Bunny and being inspired to reform, I was not actually an asshole. But it was almost eerily remniscent of my own history, rather like reading the diary you don’t remember writing.

A few thoughts strike me:

1. I crushed his highest confirmed BAC. By double-digits. Wuss. And heck, on my 21st birthday, I did my 21 shots in less time, didn’t boot AND ended up in jail. Along with a side-trip to the hospital to treat a broken nose. Good times… blame Big Chilly and the White Buffalo for that one.

2. Every nice guy should read his stories simply to understand what makes non-Christian women tick. Well, at least how to run them. They definitely have the ring of truth to them. If all you’re after is fast sex with hot girls, snarling contempt indiscriminately applied shotgun-style is the most effective way to go about it.

3. Tucker is funny. I’m not. Hence, my stories tend to involve significantly more violence, or at least the imminent threat of it. Tucker is like the perfect cross between the White Buffalo and me.

4. I have a good friend who went to the University of Chicago’s business school. Tucker’s characterization of the women there conforms precisely to my friend’s description of the place as some sort of hell school for the smart, unwashed and physically deformed. I think I have to give my 17-year old self more credit now.

5. Tucker is a beautiful example of what I consider to be a rational atheist. If more Christians understood this, they would find it easier to talk across the cross-cultural gap that separates us from them.

6. He slavers for public attention. I sometimes enjoy it, and sometimes find it uncomfortable. And the idea of having an MTV camera crew follow me around for a week makes my skin crawl.

Anyhow, it wouldn’t be fair to leave you, gentle reader, without an example of the wit and wisdom of Tucker Max:


11:16: The fat girl from the first kitchen encounter comes over. With reinforcements. Her backup: A small frail dork that looks like he just finished a Magic The Gathering tournament, a heinous Asian girl, and a greasy haired fat doofus in a camouflage vest. I ask you–Am I here right now? Is this my life?

11:17: The girl starts saying something about what a horrible person I am. I stare at her, but I am not listening. I am preparing myself. I am B-Rabbit. This is the final battle rap. I will win the hostile crowd: [I interrupt the fat girl] “Ward, I think you’re being a little hard on the Beaver, [as I point to each in turn] so is Eddie Haskell, Wally, and Miss Cleaver.”

[To the fat guy with greasy hair in the camo vest] “Look out everyone! It’s the Pillsbury Commando! Hey Chunk, when was the last time you washed your hair? Does it give you more hit points to have that grease helmet? I hate to break the news, but +5 defense only counts in Dungeons and Dragons.”

[To the ugly Asian girl] “Why you no rike me? You want me frip over? You no piss me off! ME FIND YOU IN POCKING ROT!! YOU NO TAKE MING ARIVE!!”

[To the small frail dork–I notice he has a lazy eye] “Dude–Look at me when I’m talking to you–BOTH EYES AT ONCE. Are you really this ugly or are you just playing? EVERYONE, BE CAREFUL, THIS GUY LURKS UNDER THE STAIRS AND TRIES TO LICK YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU PASS BY!”

[To the original fatty, pause for effect] “Why do you do this to yourself? WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF? Look, I’m gonna give you some advice-leave the party, take the geek squad with you, go to Denny’s, order about 10 Grand Slam Breakfasts, and eat your pain away. Won’t be the first time will it?”

11:19: I am finished. The kitchen is quiet, except for Eddie and Rich laughing. The four freaks are completely speechless. Everyone is staring at me. I blurt out, “WHAT? I’m pretty sure it’s what Jesus would’ve done.” Eddie and Rich promptly remove me from the kitchen.

Good humor. Cruel, to be sure, but good.