I dislike Tucker Max because he is my sophomore year of college roommate's boyfriend to a T. He kept this debauched "reserve" or whatever you want to call it of rehearsed stories that "happened to him" that he would compulsively tell bottom of the barrel (intelligence-wise) to naive girls so that they'd think he was fun, clever and a bad boy. Everything in his room had a purpose, was placed there so that a girl or one of his male buddies would see it and say, "Oh, why is this here? That is so random and funny!" I'm pretty sure that he didn't have a real personality anymore, just an empty shell that he perpetually reinforced so that his deep-seated insecurity, alcoholism, and sadness wouldn't collapse in upon itself. Totally unreliable for even the simplest of tasks too, e.g., he'd forget to close the front door on his way out so it would stay open all day, shit like that. Then it would turn into an exaggerated story a month later when he finally got some blathering idiot of a girl into his room and in the retelling there would be a homeless guy standing in his room looking at his CD's and pornos when he came home.
I guess the moral is, there are tons of people just like Tucker Max who just weren't self-absorbed enough to try to turn themselves into a phenomenon. The only reason they have any social success at all is because they figured out there's a portion of the population who mistake being irresponsible with being "fun" and are gullible enough to believe and repeat the bullshit tall tales people tell them at bars. He's a social snake-oil peddler.
That roommate was a piece of work herself. I was working two jobs while going to school full time, and I'd come back late at night to see her unmoved from where I left here crying and double fisting Sailor Jerry's and cokes. When I asked her what was wrong I'd be treated to her oddball vaginal stories about "when she was anorexic" or "when her step-father yelled at her like this". Holy hell, Batman. If I could do it all over again I would've merrily skipped college, but the highest of the pros is it taught me I had to pony up and start being honest and accountable, because interacting with those people regularly made me feel like crap. And drink.
I love being in the company of a man who's a good story-teller, and all intelligent men essentially are. However, this need not be done in the most innocuous way possible.