My Booky Wook by Russell Brand
Summary: Russell Brand, the British Comedian with a rock ‘n’ roll reputation spills his gutsy wutsies about drug addiction, sex addiction and adventure. He starts at the beginning in this humble memoir, memories of his mom, boarding school, peer pressure and drama class. He delves into his reasons for being an irreverent character and how support from his friends have helped him harness his chaotic energy and rise to the fame he’s always wanted.
Review: Reading this book, one feels the rascal lying within. Those moments, what if I keep doing this? Or what if I say this? Those moments where you are on a cliff or a balcony of a high-rise apartment and think, what if I just jump? Russell Brand has tapped into fearlessness as a way to entertain and this book captures his spunk, his politics and a certain kind of wit only found in Britain. I love how his voice seems to call out from the page. All the British slang and retrospective footnotes make this read the most flavored autobiographical I have ever read.
Rating: 8 pieces of tin foil left in a black zipper covered jacket
Favorite part: Regarding the Footprints in the Sand poem, you know the one: “Come on God, don’t fuck me around. That’s convenient—how come the footprints aren’t deeper then? ‘Cos you’d have been carrying my weight. And they’re not deeper, are they? How come one of those footprints has got only three toes? It’s a dinosaur footprint. And that one next to it is a cat’s paw. What’s going on on this beach? Why is God at the beach anyway? With all the chaos? And war? What the fuck is God doing on holiday at a time like this?” p. 295
Wine-pairing: Naked Lunch or anything by William S. Burroughs. His graphic homoeroticism and drug induced scenes of fantastic symbolism put you on a wild–on the border of disgusting– ride, the ups and downs of a certain self-destructive kind of creativity.