Taken in small doses, this can be sublime. His stream of consciousness style here is too similar to itself to reward sustained reading – but this is hardly a criticism and what was never designed to be read in that way. This is precisely what the subheading of the book wittily describes – small pieces of Shaun Micallef, probably mainly columns of a few hundred words, written at different times and not planned as a whole.
Much as with Dave Barry’s excellent Greatest Hits, this is ideal loo reading (or, as Shaun would more likely describe it in his typically Edwardian fashion, the water closet). The standard is consistently high, the word play wonderful and surreal.
It’s also so nice to see someone so obviously not trying to please, but writing what they themselves find funny. Micallef is simply being the best Micallef he can be. Sure he clearly relishes other writers, but this is unique.