The age of the comedy spinoff is most certainly with us, with companion guides and kerching cashins a-plenty in Borders and Waterstones last Christmas. Most notable of these was Al Murray’s The Pub Landlord’s Book of British Common Sense which I’ll be reviewing once I’ve cleaned up all the wee.
Previous years have seen chimps such as Karl Pilkington (Gervais and Merchant’s comedy bitch from their podcast – no way is he the stupidest bastard on the planet in anything other than agreeing to be some sort of comic ladyboy foil for the pair) reach the top of the comedy book charts, while even lardarsed talent vacuum Chris Moyles got someone to write him a book.
Imagine having to transcribe that one.
But you know as much as I love them I can’t help feeling that these literary entries in the whole are a bad thing – and what’s worse they were pioneered by the Pythons.
It would be nice to see some real comedy gold in print, and not DJs ranting on their radio show for listeners to buy their books.