Lost in love and don't know much? Paul Feig knew even less...
Like any other red-blooded, straight young man, Paul Feig spent much of his teenage years trying to solve the mystery of women. Unlike most red-blooded, straight teenage boys, however, Paul Feig was sadly at a considerable disadvantage. He was tall and gangly. He had a love for musical theater. And, perhaps the death knell for his burgeoning sex life, Paul was a tap dance student. (And we have the pictures to prove it—see the front cover.)
Infused with the same witty and infectiously readable style of his first book, Kick Me, Superstud chronicles the trials and tribulations of Feig’s young dating life with all the same excruciating detail as an on-air gastric bypass—and you just won’t be able to tear yourself away. Feig’s series of shudder-to-think but oddly familiar (come on—we’ve all been dumped by someone we didn’t even like that much) anecdotes include: his first date, at an REO Speedwagon concert with the most endowed girl in school, who leaves him sitting next to a puddle of puke; his first breakup, accomplished by moving across the country; his mortifying date with his secretly bigoted girlfriend; his discovery of a new self-love technique that almost lands him in the hospital; and his less-than-idealistic “first time,” which he nevertheless elevates to biblical proportions.
In Superstud, Paul Feig tells all in a hilarious but true testament to geekdom, love, and growing up.
It bodes well that the dedication to this book is laugh-out-loud funny, and indeed, Feig (Kick Me) does not disappoint in this comedic tale of his early sex life, or lack thereof. The author, creator of the television series Freaks and Geeks, was always a romantic, but sex, in many ways, frightened him. As a practicing Christian Scientist, he believed he should not only refrain from sex, but from masturbation, too yet his adolescent hormones disagreed. His confusion was compounded when he heard a radio preacher declare, "veryone knows that each time you masturbate, God takes one day off of your life." Feig writes in desperation, "Everyone knew this? Nobody told me about it.... How many days had I lopped off my life so far?" At heart, the memoir is a one-note story of sexual frustration. Feig doesn't delve deeply into his religion, his family relations or his life outside of the physical. The book's many flashbacks will satisfy any child of the 1970s (e.g., Feig is wild about roller skating). While his eventual deflowering is anticlimactic, the account of his journey to sexual manhood is witty and entertaining and one to which any former sex-addled adolescent (male or female) will relate.