Growing up in his parents’ pub, small and wiry in a world of bigger and chunkier specimens, Lee quickly learned that cracking jokes was a way to get attention. After a somewhat random series of jobs, which included being Red Rum’s stableboy and a bingo hall barman, it was as a Great Yarmouth holiday camp entertainer that he had his first crack at telling jokes on stage. It got him some laughs, the sack and a punch in the face.*
Now, as Lee Mack, he’s one of our best loved and most successful comedians, both as a live stand-up and on television. In Mack the Life, Lee tells the story of how he got there and gives extraordinary insight into what really makes comics tick. Hilarious and brilliant, it’s the kind of book which reminds you why you learned to read in the first place.
BAFTA-award-winning Lee Mack is one of the UK's most recognizable and celebrated comedians. He writes and stars in his own multi-award-winning sitcom Not Going Out, is a team captain on Would I Lie to You?, and frequently appears on Have I Got News for You, Live at the Apollo and QI. He has performed many stand-up tours across the country, and has released two stand-up DVDs, Lee Mack Live and Lee Mack – Going Out.
Lee lives in London with his wife, Tara, and their three children.
But terrible ideas are what Jenny does best.
As Jenny says:
"Some people might think that being 'furiously happy' is just an excuse to be stupid and irresponsible and invite a herd of kangaroos over to your house without telling your husband first because you suspect he would say no since he's never particularly liked kangaroos. And that would be ridiculous because no one would invite a herd of kangaroos into their house. Two is the limit. I speak from personal experience. My husband says that none is the new limit. I say he should have been clearer about that before I rented all those kangaroos.
"Most of my favorite people are dangerously fucked-up but you'd never guess because we've learned to bare it so honestly that it becomes the new normal. Like John Hughes wrote in The Breakfast Club, 'We're all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it.' Except go back and cross out the word 'hiding.'"
Furiously Happy is about "taking those moments when things are fine and making them amazing, because those moments are what make us who we are, and they're the same moments we take into battle with us when our brains declare war on our very existence. It's the difference between "surviving life" and "living life". It's the difference between "taking a shower" and "teaching your monkey butler how to shampoo your hair." It's the difference between being "sane" and being "furiously happy."
Lawson is beloved around the world for her inimitable humor and honesty, and in Furiously Happy, she is at her snort-inducing funniest. This is a book about embracing everything that makes us who we are - the beautiful and the flawed - and then using it to find joy in fantastic and outrageous ways. Because as Jenny's mom says, "Maybe 'crazy' isn't so bad after all." Sometimes crazy is just right.
From BBC Dickens adaptations to Benidorm and Ideal to the PG Tips ads, Johnny Vegas has become one of Britain's best-loved comic actors.
But before he'd ever drunk tea with a knitted monkey or made himself the exception that proves the rule in terms of the predictability of TV panel game regulars, Johnny Vegas was perhaps the most fearlessly confessional stand-up comedian this country has ever produced.
How did an eleven-year-old Catholic trainee priest from St Helens grow up to become the North West of England’s answer to Lenny Bruce? That’s just one of the many questions answered by this eye-poppingly frank memoir.
Becoming Johnny Vegas establishes its author as the poet laureate of the Pimblett's pie.
Once you've finished this darkly hilarious tale of family, faith and the creative application of alcohol dependency, you'll never look at a copy of the Catholic men's society newsletter the same way again.
As well as giving a specific account of every single time he's scored some smack, this disgusting memoir also details:
• the singular, pitbull-infested charm of the FRP (‘Flat Roofed Pub’)
• the curious French habit of injecting everyone in the arse rather than the arm
• why, by the time he got to Cambridge, he really, really needed a drink
• the pain of being denied a childhood birthday party at McDonalds
• the satisfaction of writing jokes about suicide
• how doing quite a lot of walking around London helps with his sciatica
• trying to pretend he isn’t a total **** at Robert Webb’s wedding
• that he has fallen in love at LOT, but rarely done anything about it
• why it would be worse to bump into Michael Palin than Hitler on holiday
• that he’s not David Mitchell the novelist. Despite what David Miliband might think