ne of my favourite books growing up was . It’s a collection of anecdotes about people who did things badly and wrong, and how things then went badly and wrong for them. It was the handbook of the Not Terribly Good Club of Great Britain, the members of which, surprise! Weren’t very good at things. Apparently whenever they got together you’d overhear snippets of conversation between artistically inclined members like, “Yes, sheep are difficult.” The book was
