Whilst we are in a nostalgiac mood.
In 1986, I organised a signing session for this book by the simple method of bothering Adrian Edmondson as he sat alone in Finches, enjoying a lunch-time pint. (Rory Gallagher would have been propping up the bar.) At the time Mr Monsoon was very famous indeed, having starred with the rest of The Young Ones along with Cliff Richard on a Comic Relief version of Living Doll that had spent 3 weeks at number one in the singles chart, when these things still mattered.
The event was very successful and the author clearly enjoyed himself.
A very posh Fulham lady reached the front of the queue.
It's for my son, she explained.
And what would you like me to write madame? the author asked.
Oh, just your usual string of expletives, I suppose, she said.
How about, You Fucking Cunty Bastard, will that do? He asked.
That would be lovely, the woman replied.
After which, I couldn't not have the same, could I?
Yesterday, Fred saw the book on the side in the kitchen.
Dad, he asked worryingly, does it really tell you how to be a complete bastard?