My Booky Wook: A Memoir of Sex, Drugs, and Stand-Up

My Booky Wook: A Memoir of Sex, Drugs, and Stand-Up

Russell Brand

Language: English

Pages: 368

ISBN: 0061857807

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


“A child’s garden of vices, My Booky Wook is also a relentless ride with a comic mind clearly at the wheel.... The bloke can write. He rhapsodizes about heroin better than anyone since Jim Carroll. With the flick of his enviable pen, he can summarize childhood thus: ‘My very first utterance in life was not a single word, but a sentence. It was, ‘Don’t do that.’... Russell Brand has a compelling story." — New York Times Book Review

The gleeful and candid New York Times bestselling autobiography of addiction, recovery, and rise to fame from Russell Brand, star of Forgetting Sarah Marshall and one of the biggest personalities in comedy today.

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heart” Alexander Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago “Mary: Tell me, Edmund: Do you have someone special in your life? Edmund: Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Mary: Who? Edmund: Me. Mary: No, I mean someone you love, cherish and want to keep safe from all the horror and the hurt. Edmund: Erm … Still me, really” Richard Curtis and Ben Elton, Blackadder Goes Forth Russell Brand is a comedian, journalist, TV and radio host, and actor. He captivated audiences in Forgetting Sarah

utility belt with tools in it. During the performance, which was just for teachers and the students from other years, I bent over to pick something up, my pockets emptied and twenty or thirty screwdrivers and a hammer fell out, stealing the scene. When we had to sit around afterward for “crits” (an annoying abbreviation but that’s what they call it), Christopher and Yat described the performance as “flawless” and “genius.” “I should think so too,” I mused. “A hat, a mustache, I’m the new Dustin

postbag. “Here, what are you doing watching football?” he demanded. “Why don’t you get on with your job? You fucking scab.” The other players, seeing the confrontation, soon began to join in the chorus of condemnation—“Yeah, you scab, get on with your fucking job.” These men were striking postal workers, playing football to distract themselves from the harsh realities of industrial action, and while they were forgoing payment in a bid to improve their working conditions, I had stepped in to take

smoking grass to calm down, I could still cling onto a new sense of purpose. I felt that I was finally in alignment: that at last I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. From this point onward, the seeds that had been planted in me with my endless hours of watching comedy videos could finally begin to germinate. I’ve seen Matt Lucas talk about how angry Vic Reeves Big Night Out made him initially (I think he even made a complaint to Channel 4), but then he really grew to love it, and I was

cool. He looked up to me. “Russell [and I can’t swear that these were his actual words, but this was definitely what he was thinking], you’re so cool and mad and dangerous, and we’re going go-kart racing together. It’s gonna be such fun, because you’re so crazy and wild.” I thought, “This kid thinks I’m crazy and wild! I can’t let him down, with his little face all full of hope.” So we get into the karts and set off, and pretty soon, not long after the race begins, I overtake Gavin on the

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