As an Irishman, I am for all intents and purposes British. I eat crisps, not chips. I dress head-to-toe in vinyl Adidas tracksuits with my bangs greased in a straight line down my forehead. I refer to people I don’t like as “muppets” and “knackers.” My teeth are jagged brown daggers that stick out of my face at implausible angles. But even I have no idea what a ‘YOB’ is.
