AND THE BRAND PLAYED ON

Ooh, there's the Christmas presents sorted out. Just rush out to Waterstone's and buy a copy of Russell Brand's autobiography for those people in your life who you can't stand. Russell tells the story of his life and his journey from a priapic schoolboy obsessed with sex to a faux-pirate wannabe obsessed with sex, and incredibly never quite manages to make the business seem interesting.

In the hilariously titled 'My Booky Wook by Russell Brand' (the title alone should give you a fair indication of the level of wordplay on display) the surprisingly fat-bellied former porker reveals that it was the way in which he lost his virginity that has led to his obsession with sex. It also explains why he appears to find it a 'naughty' subject, like a giggling schoolboy obsessed with his 'dicksack'.

He talks of a visit to Hong Kong at age 17 with his father, at no point mentioning how horrendously middle class this makes him sound, though that broad accent would make you think otherwise.

"Before long I was sat on a bar stool with a Filipino called Mary-Lou. Then we were leaving in a cab with three Asian prostitutes my dad was drunkenly herding. Back in the hotel my dad set about unwrapping his two prostitutes. I sat on the edge of the other twin bed. She must have known I was a virgin as soon as the bungling encounter commenced," he said, rolling his eyes and vowels in equal measure.

"In the course of that holiday I had sex with loads more prostitutes, never wore a condom and never fell in love."

Maybe the book is worth buying. That last sentence there should give women at least another three reasons never to let the scabby rat near their gussets.