"WHO does that Kevin Bridges think he is?" I hear you ask, because although the Clydebank comedian has barely clocked up 27 years on the planet, he believes he's achieved sufficient experience to compile the story of his life.

(He's set to promote his 80,000 word tome on Saturday at the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall.)

Some will consider this is something of a disgrace. But let's look at the counterpoint. Bridges may be 27, but he is in fact 47.

It's just that his body is yet to catch up with his brain. And he does have life experience; it's just that it's ordinary life experience, which he somehow reconstitutes into the hilarious.

His new book We Need To Talk About . . . Kevin Bridges won't reference hanging around with footballers in trendy London clubs, but his football story about missing two final school exams to follow Celtic to Seville in 2003 is better.

Bridges has never had a cocaine habit, or spent time in rehab, although he has felt pretty bad after a few beers and eating the night before's takeaway straight from the carpet.

He's never been given to Ferarri spending, although he did once spend a hundred quid on a pair of flash trainers.

He's never been banged up but he has been to prison, where he made jokes about sentencing and prison officers. "A guy got up 10 minutes into my set and went back to his cell. That's a heckle," he has said.

Bridges has not been bankrupted, but he does know what it's like to have been threatened for £1 at a bus stop. He may not have a had a vast range of work experience, but aged 16 he was turned down by Asda as a potential shelf-stacker, to the Co-op's gain.

And he does know about politics. "How does it help your self-esteem working in a shop where everything's worth a quid except you?" he says of government work experience strategies.

And economics, illustrated by his perfectly concise summation of how a future independent Scotland would deal with an IMF loan: "You'll get your money!"

Bridges is a living example that, for an autobiography to be successful, you don't have to have had a life of debauchery, trauma and torment. You don't have to evoke Philip Larkin by referencing the impact parents had on your psychological wellbeing to achieve a hit memoir. Life is all in the telling. And didn't Frankie Boyle get away with it?