Pussweek is a publication written by cats for cats and now in book form, from scandalous pawparazzi pics to revealing litter quizzes, hairy exposés to tell-tail interviews, and tips and tricks on dealing with your annoying human, you will finally find the full feline empowerment lies within you. The letters pages are simply hilarious like finding a safe place to dump your uncomfortable load with Ollie. The 'Is that what you're wearing?' face tortures Geraldo's human and makes her feel insecure every time she gets dressed. Beatrice sends a picture of her nipple to Ollie! There are cats on toilet bowls, sheeting (peering out from under the bed sheet), climbing into handbags and the Top 20 Most Satisfying Things to Push off the Table, like books, a vase of flowers and cutlery, all pictured and with hilarious captions. Then there is the vacuum cleaner, playtime and biting: 'Out of nowhere he calls me Fatty and then he just started grabbing at my belly...' and what to do if your human is a creeper and has hundreds of photos of you. They tell you all their problems (and expect you to care). Do you have a catnip problem? Get up to scratch with the curtain call and the rights and wrongs of ascending a net curtain, clawing things at home, even getting your nails painted; pretending you eat the medicine popped into your food then spitting it out on their pillow, and hiding under beds and sofas, spotting rolling playfully with the pet dog. Pussweek is printed with the highest quality material so you can chew on it or pee on it if your like! 152pp, colour photos of cats as we have never seen them before. Highly recommended to our cat loving readers with a good sense of humour. Softback.

'For its 10,000 issues, The Spectator has educated and entertained, thundered and titillated, raised eyebrows and smiles, and always been stimulating.' 'The combination of eloquence and irreverence, of influence and independence, of not taking itself seriously, of wearing its learning lightly.' As well as being the world's oldest current affairs magazine, none has been closer to spheres of power and influence in Britain than The Spectator. Since its first appearance in 1828 during the dying days of the Georgian era, it has been ready to spar - with the Tories and their Prime Minister, the Duke of Wellington, with a corrupt political system, and with the lacklustre literary world of the day. Over the subsequent 54 Prime Ministers, it has not just watched the world go by, but has waded into the fray, campaigned on consistently liberal lines, fighting for voters' rights, free trade, the free press and the decriminalisation of homosexuality, while offering open-minded criticism of every modern taboo and orthodoxy. From radical weekly newspaper to moralising Victorian Guardian to wartime watchdog to satirical magazine, it remains an irreverent and influential 21st century publication, 'A refuge for logic, fun and good writing'. - Boris Johnson. The book weaves together copious quotations from the archive, the contemporary press, private letters and staff anecdote with astonishing headlines such as a Times advertisement from February 1934 Whither Hitler? - the first report of our Special Investigator, now in Germany, appears exclusively in this week's issue Spectator. There were mistakes of course - the magazine went gaga over Mussolini and even showed some warmth for Stalin during its least impressive period. Its editors were nearly always men (no women yet) of eccentricity, courage and eloquence - two Johnsons, two Lawsons, a chancellor and two future chancellors, some industrial drinkers and womanisers, some churchy monks. Its prize columnists included two who went to prison, Edward Gibbon Wakefield and the incomparable Taki. Kingsley Amis said 'The chief problem with the Spec side is not getting arseholed whenever I go there.' 256 very large pages in softback, many colour and archive illustrations throughout including a fabulously satirical cartoon by Henry Heath on the suppression of the free press (1830) and many front covers.

Sub-titled 'Prince Philip's Life in His Own Words', at the age of 21 he wrote to a relative: 'I know you will never think much of me. I am rude. But it is fun' he added prophetically. He complained to a friend: 'I am nothing but a bloody amoeba. I am the only man in the country not allowed to give his name to his children.' And he once remarked 'Constitutionally, I don't exist.' 'I would have been of great value to the Queen to have someone who was, in a sense, professionally qualified in something, not just traipsing around.' The worst part about marrying British royalty for Prince Philip was having to give up his career in the Navy. When pressed for his secret for handling so many public appearances, he shot back to the interviewer: 'I never pass up a chance to go to the loo or take a poo.' 'One reason I took up carriage driving is that I like watching the ponies doing all the work' the self-confessed 'pretty idle' Prince Philip once said. Despite his reputation for never suffering fools gladly, he said that after 50 years he had learned to suffer fools 'with patience' and even humour. This affectionate self-portrait brings together the best of his blunt speech making, his mocking of the media and captains of industry, fond teasing of Her Majesty himself and a host of less well-known stories about the Prince to give a fascinating firsthand insight into the royal world as a 'fella who belongs to Mrs Queen'. Bibliophile misses our dear Royal Warrant grantor. 192pp, paperback.

'A cat needs a name that's peculiar and more dignified, else how can he keep his tail perpendicular, or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?' Thomas Stearns Eliot was born in Missouri in 1888 and came to England in 1914 and published his first book of poems in 1917. 'The Naming of Cats' features in Eliot's much celebrated collection of poems Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats (code 91666), which was written for his godchildren. The cats including Macavity, Mistoffelees and Skimbleshanks inspired one of the most successful musicals of all time. 'First of all, there's the name that the family use daily, such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James, such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey. There are fancier names... such as Plato, Admetus, Elektra, Demeter. The naming of cats is a difficult matter, it's just one of your holiday games.' A fabulous introduction for children, illustrated in colour by Arthur Robins. Small square Faber publication.

'The second day Ian smashed a flowerpot. Bobby is not having anything to do with us.' 'Plenty of hippies on the pier, but they behaved.' 'Can't say we're having a good time.' 'I'm wasting time by writing to you.' 'A crab bit my toe.' - written on the back of a postcard from LONDON! 'If it doesn't stop raining soon I shall have webbed feet.' And a picture of Hotel Paguera in Spain with the handwritten message on the reverse 'If I was here I'd be having a superb time.' On our holidays in the 1960s and 70s we sent stacks of sun-bleached postcards from leaky caravans in Skegness and chintzy guesthouses in Weston-Super-Mare, gossiping about our relatives, spilling the beans on summer romances, and providing a constant stream of weather reports. Tom Jackson has gathered the funniest, weirdest and most moving messages from his vast postcard archive, transforming the throwaway scribblings of a generation into a symphony of voices and tantalising glimpses into the past written from rainy campsites, over grim hotel breakfasts, on sweltering beaches and in windy seaside carparks. A laugh-out-loud tribute to the British character. 167pp, colour postcards on every page, softback.

Commoner-turned-royal, Nick Copeman is probably sitting in his caravan palace in Sheringham, eating a Taste the Difference ready meal and living the high life on the latest fashions from TK Maxx, drinking pink gin, watching trash TV and dreaming up his next scam. Living like a 'king' this is a funny, sad memoir of a man who creates ludicrous and funny situations. 25, unemployed, still living with his parents with absolutely nothing to move on to in life, Nick Copeman's answer was to change his name by deed pole to HM King Nicholas and found an empire from his royal seat - a caravan just outside Norfolk. Originally done as a bet, part of which was to arrive at Cromer Job Centre on a horse and wearing a crown, the prank soon escalated. Nick sells peerages over the Internet, receives corporate freebies, becomes a local celebrity, acquires a credit card in his name, and dreams of a date with Zara Phillips. But as His Majesty starts to believe his own hype, his evermore outlandish claims start catching up with him. Will the locals who hang around Costcutter make sure it's 'off with his head'? A great British eccentric who we believe still writes to Zara regularly. She has yet to reply. 274pp, paperback with photos.

With their dead parrots, holy grails and spam, Monty Python revolutionised comedy for the rest of the world and ushered in a new brand of surrealist comedy - a stream-of-consciousness sketch show that pushed the boundaries of format, style and content. David Morgan exclusively interviewed the entire world of Python from the founding members to the producers and collaborators like Douglas Adams of Hitchhikers Guide fame and Hank Azaria to create the ultimate record of Britain's most rebellious and successful comedy act. Packed with rare and never-before-seen photographs and told with the group's customary wit and irreverence, this is sub-titled 'The Complete Oral History'. Michael Palin said 'Some people think it's very clever and intelligent, some people say it's extremely silly and inconsequential, but not many people ignore it.' Chapters include Fear and Loathing at the BBC, Life of Brian, The Meaning of Life, Le Morte D'Arthur and The 'If you could only save one thing you produced' Chapter, Spamalot and Exiting the Stage. We get deep inside into the personalities behind these creations like Terry Jones?s commitment and sheer mental energy, the most positive of the group who cared about how the show looked and was a real perfectionist. In their own words, you get almost a conversation as they reflect on their body of work and insert sage little quotes such as 'History is written by the winners.' A phenomenal last word. 409pp, paperback, illus.

From the bestselling series an all new collection guaranteed to leave you laughing and groaning in equal measure. What do cars spread on their toast? Traffic Jam. I'm a fisherman, and I'm dating a mermaid. I met her online. What do you call a one-legged hippo? A hoppo. What do you call a fish without an eye? Fsh. I couldn't sleep last night, so I read a dictionary. By 3am, I was past caring. A book to make the world a funnier, sunnier place. 272pp.

Full of classic Giles family cartoons and their antics, the cartoonist brilliantly details a cacophony of scenes involving his iconic family. His charismatic matriarch Grandma and the tearaway kids react to, and parody, the news of the day in this celebration of the cartoonist's 50 year career. These are timeless scenes that all families can recognise as we revel in 150 cartoons from the archives of the Daily Express and recall moments of recent modern history. 'It was reported that Prince Philip was always very security conscious.' 'Careful what you spend, dear - third vase, back row on your left' during a trip, as Mexico welcomes Elizabeth II and a camera flashbulb is seen popping up from the third vase! Finances in Buckingham Palace, Grandma speaking her mind, the fitting of safety belts compulsory in all new cars, disappointing August weather, the Epsom Derby, protest songs, Star Wars, the Olympics and even the Bay City Rollers, this is a wonderfully nostalgic collection from Giles's own private archive. 160 pages in large softback.

Renowned poo-fessor of scatology Hugh Jassburn has compiled a fresh dump polished puzzles and trivia on a stool theme. Wombats produce cube-shaped turds which won't fall off rocks and logs. Tough, brown, smelly, solid, curly, soft, dense, lumpy, watery - types of turds in the full page wordsearch. There are turd teasers to solve in 20 seconds, a puzzle like Sudoku but with turds, matching pairs and facts like there's a museum dedicated to turds on the Isle of Wight or that dead red blood cells and bile give turds their distinctive brown colour. One for every smallest room in the house, 112 pages, colour.