![]() ![]() Poor condition books are still perfect for a good read, all pages will be intact and none threatening to fall out most probably a reading copy only.There are some reference books that are indispensable, but few are loved. They’re functional, they get bashed, you only turn to them when you’re in trouble, and sometimes they get horribly out of date and neglected. I’m sure I’ve got a Collins Encyclopaedia somewhere that was printed before the age of space travel. The Magna Farta is the latest edition of Viz magazine’s swearing Bible, the Profanisaurus. To any unfortunates, perhaps from the United States, who are reading this unaware of what Viz magazine is, I say this to you: your cultural life is incomplete. It is, without a doubt, the best thing ever put onto paper in the history of the United Kingdom, and I would include the actual Magna Carta in that. It is the only thing that guarantees big laughs every time I read it. Unfairly derided as a “toilet humour” adult comic book, it has long strayed into the realms of surrealism and total farce, with a wit that would surprise those who would deride it as a vulgarian’s plaything, should they ever take the trouble to actually read it. The adventures of Johnny Fartpants, a young gentleman with a flatulent problem, often live just across the page from “Howard Hughes, Ace Reporter”, in which the reclusive genius is a journalist who goes into hiding when he gets put on a story by his editor. There’s also, the history of “Galileo Galileo Figgy Roll” in which the famous mathematician’s perverse penchant for fruit-based snacks gets him into trouble with the local authorities while he tries to prove his theories, often riffing on Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody while he does so. These one-off pieces of genius sit alongside traditional heroes such as Eight Ace, the drunkard who only needs £1.49 for eight cans of his favourite rot-gut beer, against the pleas of his wife and malnourished children, and Roger Mellie, the entirely inappropriate vanilla TV presenter, Alan Partridge long before Alan Partridge ever existed.īut my favourites aren’t the comic strips – they’re the ludicrious, faux-tabloid news sections. One story, “Treasures of Sierra Madre found under Anthony Quinn’s foreskin”, made me laugh so hard on a train – in public – that I thought I was going to choke to death. “Frank Man 2 Man chat”, a false sex chat line, had the enticing lines: ‘Fancy a quick half after the work?’ and ‘Do you fancy watching the football this weekend?’ The fake adverts, hidden in among the real ones, have also caused many a belly-laugh. There are also Letterbocks and Top Tips, examples of which have both been published in hardback. It’s hard to explain the appeal of these snippets, contributed by readers over the years, but I am without fail creased up with laughter when I read these. ![]()
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