Frank Ritz is a television critic. His partner, Melissa Paul, is the author of pornographic novels for liberated women. He watches crap all day; she writes crap all day. It's a life. Or it was a life. Now they're fighting, locked in oral combat. He won't shut up, and she's putting her finger down her throat again. So there's only one thing to do: Frank has to go.

But go where? And do what? Frank Ritz has been in heat more or less continuously since he could speak his own name. Let him out of the house and his first instinct is to go looking for sex. Deviant sex, treacherous sex, even conventional sex, so long as it's immoderate-he's never been choosy. But what happens when sex is all you know and yet no longer what you want?

Praise from the UK for No More Mr. Nice Guy:

"Brilliant and funny...No More Mr. Nice Guy shows invention on every page, every paragraph. Jacobson is unique."-Evening Standard

"A very funny, very intelligent novel...How many of [Jacobson's] contemporaries have described the male condition with such wry, unsparing honesty?"-Sunday Telegraph