Blethers

I had been searching my inner dictionary for a word to describe a book that I'm reading at the moment. I am persevering with it because I need to be 100% sure about what I feel.
Suddenly, the Scottish word 'blethers' flew into my head.
It's a fantastic word, almost an onomatopoeia; rubbishy burblings, burbled with authority and pomposity, absolute ess aitch one tee.
I can't tell you who wrote it, can I?
But quite possibly reading Pete Waterman's autobiography yesterday, I Wish I Was Me, has reactivated a bullpoo detector in my brain that is ringing loud and clear; Waterman's book is gleeful, direct and at times, painfully honest. The bits he wants to avoid (dumping two wives unceremoniously as he pursued the ambitions of his musical career) shout just as loudly as his successes and failures in the music industry that he did so much to shake up. He tried to shake up The Chefs but failed because I was loyal and wouldn't do what he said. His experiences as a DJ made him trust his instincts about what would and wouldn't work for the audiences for the songs he wrote and promoted. What an entertaining read it was!
I can't believe I've even written a blog posting about the other one- it is a seriously awful book.