YOB

Yob: A Memoir of Mischief, Mayhem, and the Magnificent Austin Maxi Picture this: three scrawny lads in 1980s working-class Britain, armed with a dodgy air rifle, a bottomless appetite for trouble, and a family car that sounded like it was auditioning for a horror film. That's me, Darren, and Andy— our chaotic trinity, turning a drafty Victorian house into a battlefield of hide-and-seek gone rogue and target practice that nearly started a family feud. In Yob, I drag you kicking and screaming (mostly from laughter) through the grimy glory of our youth: dodging Mum's "taxation" raids on our newspaper-round pennies, wrestling the perpetually suicidal Austin Maxi back from the brink of roadside doom, and learning life's hard knocks via one accidental ricochet too many. It's a tale of frozen fingers chopping firewood to fend off the miserable winters, epic sibling squabbles over the last sliver of roast, and friendships forged in the fires of shared stupidity—like the time we thought a canal-side shooting range was a brilliant idea. Wry, raw, and ridiculously funny, Yob isn't some sanitized nostalgia trip. It's a love letter to the unbreakable grit of family (even when they're taxing your soul), the lads who have your back (until they accidentally wing your mum), and an era when "resilience" meant duct-taping your dreams to a rustbucket and flooring it anyway. If you've ever cursed a clapped-out car, hidden from parental fury, or wondered how anyone survived the '80s without therapy, this one's for you. Buckle up—it's a bumpy, hilarious ride.