Emma Kaufmann's Reviews > My Booky Wook

Hmm, I suppose because Russell Brand is a funny comedian I thought this might be funny. It isn't. Okay I know it's a self pitying, wallowing story about his life addicted to heroin and also a sex addict but you'd have thought that the 'hilarious' incidents where he disgraces himself by visiting brothels while meant to be filming TV shows etc would have been funnier. But frankly Brand does not have a way with words on paper and does not bring any of these incidents to life. This is just a rather tedious rambling book about Brands' perceived outsider status and how he finds 'dignity' in low life/druggies/prostitutes (give me a break!) and how he likes them because they are so much more real/alive etc. The only memorable thing about it is a few sex scenes which are so revolting that they will make you want to dry heave. He doesn't really explain why he is QUITE so fucked up - he comes across as someone barely human just this bag of piss, drink and drugs who indiscriminately fucks any woman that moves. Well he has been in rehab now and I hope you are a better person these days Russell. In short many of these drug memoirs make you feel sorry for the person but here you just feel your skin crawl.