Question: What links Justin Timberlake, King Kong, George Galloway and Gillian McKeith?
Answer: They have all invoked the wrath of Charlie Brooker.
Brooker, you may recall, was the mastermind behind the brilliantly puerile TV Go Home website. More recently he presented the television series Screenwipe in which he took unholy delight in mowing down any actor/presenter who was reckless enough to stick his head up over the parapet. It was both appalling and unmissable.
This book collects together the best of his Guardian articles and it is quite simply one of the funniest things I have read in years. Brooker takes irreverence to entirely new levels. If something irks him (and most things seem to) he unleashes a broadside of spiteful ridicule and invective upon his chosen target that leaves little but their mangled remains behind. You may not always agree with Mr Brooker's views, but boy will you love the way he expresses them. Here's a small sample of what he has to say about the unfortunate Mr Timberlake.
"How dare he? Genuinely - how dare he? How dare this dot-eyed, crop-haired, fun-sized, guff-tongued, pirouetting waif-boy scamper onto the world's airwaves and loudly proclaim to be the sole global administrator of all things sexy? You'd think it takes massive balls to do that, but given the shrill, squeaking vocals cheeping through his ghastly little gobhole, it's safe to assume he's got testes the size of capers. He's practically a human dog whistle, the shrieking, high-pitched, mosquito-lunged ponce."
As for the much lauded performance artist Banksy, Brooker dismisses him as an "absolute thundering backside". Billie Piper meanwhile is deemed to be "extremely good looking in a most peculiar way: her eyes, mouth and nostrils all seem to be competing to see which can look biggest on her face". And he really likes Billie Piper!
So, if you want to get the most laughs possible for £9.99, invest in this unputdownable book. But be warned. Don't read it on a crowded train. Your fellow passengers will be edging nervously away from you as you sit there cackling like a demented drain. At least, mine did.
