The Game

While working and staying recently with Dominic Frisby, I got sucked into his current bathroom-book at least enough to double my toilet time. The book was The Game, Neil Strauss' apparently non-fiction work, expanded from his own New York Times article, telling tall-ish tales of a secret society of pick-up artists. Now, the whole thing was quite tragic, with these rather unattractive men manhandling a series of objectified women and mythologising their own sorry lives along the way, while barely bothering to get off their mother's couches let alone move out. (Not that there's anything wrong with slouching on your mum's couch, by the way, just don't try to package yourself as Casanova while you're slumped drooling there).

The film adaptation is being written by Paul and Chris Weitz, with Paul set to direct. His earlier About a Boy covered similar enough territory that I could believe either a) he's really into stories about guys like this, or b) that some unimaginative studio suit went straight to him once the option was acquired.

While you're waiting to find out which it was (yawn), head right over to Neil Strauss' official site for a bit of shameless flim-flammery and the promise of something special. The ridiculous message you receive once you input your e-mail address/a fake e-mail address is worth the effort alone.