on 7 July 2009
by Ken Scott, author and ghost-writer to the stars.
I had the privilege of indulging myself in this book during a delayed night flight from Gatwick to New York. I had intended to use the first few chapters to work on my over tired eyelids and put me firmly in the land of nod.
From the outset, the book reeled me in and hooked me firmly on an oh so sweet and salty tasting barb. My curiosity was aroused (good choice of word, believe me.)from the very start as I tried to guess the celebrity behind each perverted but unquestionably true story. Each story is written by our protagonist Giles Vickers Jones, told first hand by each individual, I imagine, during a raucous drink and drug fuelled weekend in either Amsterdam, Prague or the good old west end of London where the majority of the tales take place. Vickers-Jones does not hold back on the language or the seriously explicit tales of conquests, threesomes, spit roasts, orgies and downright perverted filth. And neither he should. The book is written so skilfully that you can simply imagine sitting at the well stocked table flowing with alcohol in your all time favourite bar, somewhere in your dark and distant past with the type of friends you'd die for. The humour of the book is awesome, original boys own stuff, a kind of mix between Roy of the Rovers and Debbie does Dallas with Linda Lovelace looking in from the wings with her mouth full. The book works wonderfully well and its a great 'lads' read. I imagine it will be handed around to girlfriends and wives too, maybe both... Just make sure it's not left around for great Aunty May to pick up.