because none of us is fucking up like we think we are, is what i'm trying to say

Tuesday, 16 June 2009

My Booky Wook.


Look. You either love him or think he should be humanely put down by the RSPCB for crimes against birds-nest hair. I happen to ADORE him- and even more so after reading this book.

It's not a pretty read. Brand has the self-knowledge and understanding that only a man whom has been through rehab can have, and he uses these insights to hit you right where it hurts. The funny bone. But then you sort of want to cry and offer him a cuddle, too.

Peppered with his famous flowery language and as honest as it gets, I defy you to read this and not want an invite to his wedding. I can't think of anybody I'd rather spend a Sunday afternoon in the pub with. Just great.

Really, really great.
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