“I laughed so much I fell off my chair” Independent on Sunday.
That’s the headline on Frank Skinner’s new book, On The Road which I’ve just borrowed from the library.
But just how funny must something be to make you fall off of your chair? I’m 31 years old and can honestly say, hand on heart, that I have never fallen off of my chair in laughter at something. Ever.
The fact that someone from the Independent on Sunday, no less, found it funny enough that it made them slide from a sitting position makes me smile. The Independent is one of those papers I’ve never felt tempted to even glance at, much less read, and my view of it’s journalists is akin to a curator in a museum. Old, out of touch, covered in dust and happy to blather on about one subject non stop, without a care for whether they are right or wrong, or anyone elses opinion.
Frank Skinner has also chosen possibly the campest photo he could have found for the cover. Himself, dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, no tie, holding a a long stemmed red flower, his eyes looking straight at the camera, presumably trying to achieve an effect of “this is me, laid bare.” but instead looking like he has just sucked off an old man for money and is feeling quite guilty about it. Maybe that’s why he isn’t wearing a tie, because he spilt something down the front.
When Alan was leaving to go to South America six months back in November, I bought him a copy of this book, knowing that he’d enjoyed the original which he went on to buy me for my 24th birthday. I even pencilled in a little dedication to him on the first page. I can’t remember what it said now, but knowing of it was some way between sweet and sarcastic. Unfortunately in the drunken night that followed my handing over of the book, it was lost (or more likely stolen) from the pub that had his leaving party. I was annoyed that it had gone so bloody quickly, but more so that I’d read the first chapter on the Tube down to see him and was hoping to borrow it back at good point. Oh well.