“I have a security guy who can swim,” he says. “So he puts on the snorkeling gear and when she goes down, I tell him, ‘You swim over and just keep an eye on my wife.'”
It’s … look, not all of the book is insane advice on how women should treat their vaginas like relationship currency. Some of it is just insane in general.
Steve Harvey is a flailing dumbass of a comedy writer. Whether or not he’s funny on stage may be debatable, but without his physical timing and practiced expressions, his little musings barely qualify as observational humor. He tells women, “You’re an investigator — can’t nobody find stuff out like a woman. Y’all put the police to shame, make the little investigative tricks they show on CSI and Law & Order: SVU look like counting lessons on Sesame Street.”
With a hilariously huge purple suit and the right bug-eyed expression, that might get a laugh from a drunk crowd. But written down, it sounds like a teenage boy learning to speak English from TV.
He delivers a lot of his thoughts via these pointless analogies. Steve builds elaborate parallels between sex and other activities that only manage to lower the reader’s understanding of each. For instance, “A man fishes for two reasons: He’s either sport fishing or fishing to eat, which means he’s either going to try to catch the biggest fish he can, take a picture of it, admire it with his buddies and toss it back to sea, or he’s going to take that fish on home, scale it, fillet it, toss it in some cornmeal, fry it up, and put it on his plate. This, I think, is a great analogy for how men seek out women.”
So wait, is that to help fishermen understand fucking, or sex addicts understand fish? A-are we supposed to be tossing women in cornmeal? We haven’t been doing that.
Steve Harvey is more careless with his words than he is with the emotional needs of his string of cheated-on wives. He actually blames that cheating on the women themselves. “Men can cheat because there are so many women willing to give themselves to a man who doesn’t belong to them.”
So, who should women give themselves to? The answer may surprise you: It’s four men.
We’ll let Steve explain: “I’ve said over and over again jokingly that the only way a woman can truly be completely satisfied is to get herself four different men — an old one, an ugly one, a Mandingo, and a gay guy. Now the four of them combined? They got you covered.”
Mandingo! Part man, part dingo. We assume that’s what that means. We’re too terrified to look it up.
Jordan Breeding has a blog, a band, and reads self-help books about how to become a radioactive spider. It hasn’t worked yet. Nathan Kamal lives in Oregon and writes there. He co-founded Asymmetry Fiction for all your fiction needs.
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