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If you don't want your son - or daughter, for this is jolly and engaging and humorous enough for either - to read copious jokes about farts, fart-smells, poo, dads who spend their days on the lav (for some reason unknown to me), turn them away from this book now. You might from that work out what those unsavoury leavings in the school are, and you'd be right.
Luckily enough there is more. Dermot Milligan - Donut - who is ordered to right write this diary as therapy for his eating habits - has a brilliant turn of phrase. The girls in his class make for some very recognisable comedy moments, whereas a visit to a TV studios and a hilarious encounter with the school head make this book very amusing for the adult.
I doubt many will find it surprising - it's patently obvious who is behind Donut's troubles, but the journey from beginning to end is perfectly sprightly, enjoyable and witty enough. It might cause a couple of crossed eyebrows - the hand-less PE teacher, with his various attachments, for one. Girls might not like the way Dermot picks on his sisters, but they will see the reality in the situation. All-told, it might seem exceedingly crappy, but is by no means crap.

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