


If you haven't already visited the website for this book, go there now.

The London boozer fully explained. Now smoke free. The funniest fucking book you will read all year. So funny in fact, that Steven Hunt is not allowed to carry a copy on public transport. Buy here
This morning I was walking the shelves with a lady, making some suggestions for her book club. A couple of my suggestions, Elizabeth Strout and Elinor Lipman were swiftly rejected on the grounds of their shite covers.
So what have you read recently? I asked.
The last book was awful, she said. Really awful, I think we all hated it.
What was that? I asked.
A book by Scott Fitzgerald, she said. She mentioned the title and then told me it was dated, sexist, racist etc and etc.
I put my fist in my mouth and chewed and distracted myself by looking at the little person sitting on the wall that somebody had left as a friend for Dorothy Parker. There was absolutely nothing I could say.
AH! SUMMER IS HERE and I am at my laptop in the garden, squinting to make out the screen, breathing in the drifting chemical whiff of a hundred disposable barbecues as our corner of East Dulwich aims to accelerate climate change with a global flip of the Gordon Ramsey burger. It has all gone quiet now but have no fear because at sunrise tomorrow, our neighbours will once again release their small children into the atmosphere to yell in a garden not four feet from my own. I once suffered the ignominy of a smiling delegation from a few doors down who got together to grumble about the noise my own kids were making outside, so I banned anyone under five foot from going near the back door before 10am. They would watch with envy as our cat, Pigeon, lifted the catflap to escape silkily to freedom.
The Antiques price guide? I repeat.
Yes, for 2009, the lady replies.
No, sorry, I say, I don't keep it in stock, but I could certainly get you one for tomorrow.
You don't keep it in stock?
No, but like I say, I could get you one for tomorrow.
How much is it, please?
Thirty pounds, I say.
Thirty, the lady says, adding, I've seen it for twenty.
Which is precisely why I don't keep it in stock, I say. That and the fact that it's the most stolen book in the whole of the printed world.
I see, says my customer. A thought bubble hovers above her head. It contains a word. That word is, *loser*.
But we don't care, do we children.
Lovely David Vallade bookmarks. Free, if you ask me nicely.
It could have been worse - the allusion could have been to The Police. Or Michael Jackson.
The first customer through the door this morning was looking for a copy of a book called Mozart's Women. The second wanted to know if we had any books *on* Katie Price. The third wanted to know if I could do a print out of books on Peru and the fourth came in to pick up a copy of Personal Recovery and Mental illness. The last time we had Mozart's Women was June 2006 - I took an order. The last time we had any books on Katie Price was never was when we had 10 signed copies of the first one. Hot cakes and all that. I explained that there were 480 books listed with Peru in the title and that we might need to narrow it down a bit. The Mental Illness book, a paperback, cost £35.00 and we probably got a discount on it of about 5 pee. So it goes. As I'm fond of saying, it's a life of contrasts up here on the hill. And it looks like we need some fresh flowers.
And followers. You can show us some love on our new Facebook page. If you like.
Really, really great.
And also, we have signed copies, too.