Early on in his autobiography, former Partridge Family child star Danny Bonaduce makes his commitment to journalistic excellence clear: "[My father] had some sort of showbiz gig. I am not sure exactly what that gig was, but I am sure I could find out with a simple phone call to my mom or my eldest brother, John. I just don't feel like making that call. I have my own memories of my childhood, and I have come to the conclusion that having to research my own life is ludicrous." Considering that statement, Bonaduce's later claim that his history is "the way I remember it, not necessarily the way it actually happened," and his descriptions of pathological lying to cover up years of crippling drug addiction (not to mention the legal troubles that most famously included assault on a transvestite hooker), Random Acts Of Badness is all but impossible to take seriously, for all its apparent candor. But "Little Danny Partridge" doesn't seem much concerned with seriousness, given the book's initial flailing, faux-wacky, exclamation-point-packed brand of humor, which leads to lines like, "Digging up old friends from that era also makes me a little nervous. Unfortunately, many of them are dead! I really would have to dig them up… Those who survived are a rather motley crew—come to think of it, some actually are Mötley Crüe." Still, in spite of its gut-churning one-liners and questionable veracity, Random Acts Of Badness is an entertainingly tabloid-trashy collection of memorable personal stories in the Growing Up Brady and Boy Wonder: My Life In Tights mold. Bonaduce skims over his Partridge Family years, noting that his co-stars have long since exploited most of the good anecdotes, though he does come up with a few horrifyingly comical spoiled-child-star-runs-amok tales. His addiction years are covered in more detail, as Bonaduce trades on the apparent irony of a cute TV kid living in a car, buying crack from the dealer who murdered his previous dealer, literally chaining himself to a hotel bed so he couldn't go out and get more drugs, and ultimately moving back in with his mother at age 28. Thankfully, Bonaduce doesn't blame his problems on other people, institutions, or even the stress of his ex-child-star status. Instead, he castigates himself as "a piece of shit of operatic proportions," and devotes a great many pages to discussing the myriad chances he had to change his ways, and how he blew them. This self-flagellation occasionally sounds as insincere as the forced hilarity that complements it. But as the book inevitably addresses how Bonaduce recovered from his nightmare descent into booze and pills, the humor becomes more appreciably honest, and the bizarre true-life plot twists remain chuckleworthy throughout. Like so many C-list celebrity bios, Random Acts recognizes that it can't coast on Bonaduce's name alone, so it focuses on sex, drugs, celebrity, and vanity. Fortunately, there's an eager market for all of the above.