I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell (Tucker Max, #1)

by Tucker Max

11:30: I am confused. I only want sushi.

Me too, dude, me too

“Cognac and Alize.” There is a God, and he hates me.

There are fun nights, there are crazy nights, and then there are those nights that make men legends.

The bar was decorated in classic neo-Western Roadhouse: long-horns, oil cans, and saddles adorn the walls. I half expected Patrick Swayze to be smacking around unruly townies.

“It was so bad I had to hit myself in the hand with a tack hammer to take my mind off the pain it caused me,”

Definitely been there and couldn't think of a way to describe it until this came along.

“I’d compare watching that thing to masturbating with sandpaper,”

Ouch, just ouch.....

God forbid you should spend twenty dollars so your lonely son, who spent his formative years confined to quarters for things like “backtalk” and “auto theft,” could have a cool fortress for his only friends. Coincidentally enough, I won’t be springing for the silver package when I stuff those two idiots into the old folks home in a few years. Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?

Girl [to me] “Your friend is scaring me.” Tucker “Me too.”