There’s a lot of instructions on how to pick up, unpack and then even evacuate a woman, but mostly it’s just bullshit from bullshitted dreamers, bullshits. I don’t wanna play smart, I don’t wanna put honey around your mouth. I want to write my experience – take it or leave it… I don’t give a shit. Think of it as a conversation between friends over a beer. That’s why I strongly warn women against reading this book. I’m not forbidding, I’m not discouraging, but I’m warning! You will peek under our noses, as I have (not only) peeked under yours. I have experienced everything described here. At least I don’t consider myself a complete moron, so I can understand what I have experienced and articulate it in a way that makes it clear why I experienced it and why it happened the way it did.
This book is harsh, yet and maybe that is why it is so true, honest, open and real. If you want to use that kind of scholarly punditry, it’s hyperrealistic, provocative, decadent, existentialist, cynical to the point of nihilistic… But let’s stop playing these lame games with each other already. Let’s finally be ourselves and be who we really are. Let the argument be that I have been an almost fully faithful husband for thirty years and then, after my wife left me for a lover, a fucker of enormous proportions experiencing seven relationships at once in one maximum moment… In short, I know something about life and women or at least I have experienced a lot = that’s what I want to write here – look no further…
To all the critics and especially feminists who will be quietly vomiting in the corner after a glimpse, I have only one message – folks, put your nipples behind your foreskins!