Welcome, you magnificent degenerate.
You’ve stumbled into the festering literary sewer of Owen Croft – professional northerner, ex-plumber, two-time divorce survivor, and the only man alive who can make a blocked U-bend sound interesting.
Here there be no dragons. Just knackered blokes, limp dreams, wonky trolleys, and the faint smell of cat shit mixed with chip-fat. I write the sort of books your mam warns you about, the ones that make you snort lager out your nose on the bus and then feel strangely guilty for laughing.
Black-hearted comedy for people who’ve accepted that life is basically a Tesco car park on a wet Wednesday: slippery, full of pricks, and someone’s always nicked your space.
Grab a brew, pull up a stained sofa, and have a butcher’s at the damage so far:
- Trolley Rage: A Bastard’s Barge Through the Tesco Inferno
Dante’s got nothing on aisle 9 when the self-checkout starts beeping “unexpected item in bagging area” at my soul. - A Bloke’s Guide to Caravanning (pre-order, out Feb 2026)
How to spend £30k so you can shit in a Portaloo while Storm Barbara tries to fold you into the Irish Sea. - BumbleCock: The Limp Legend of the Layby
A superhero whose only super-power is disappointing women in service-station car parks since 1997. - Crisis on a Biscuit: How Britain Went from Empire to Empire State of Total Bastard Collapse
Written by Big Bastard Bob (me, but angrier and six-foot-four of Barnsley fury). - A Bloke’s Guide to Saving Money
How to be properly skint, stingy as fuck, and weirdly proud of it. - A Bloke’s Guide to Getting the Women
Advice from a man whose chat-up lines have the success rate of a chocolate fireguard. - A Week in the Life of a Lazy Bastard
Seven days of hangovers, blocked toilets, and a goldfish that judges me harder than my ex-wives. - The Blokes Cook Book
Recipes for the man who considers smoke alarm beeps a reliable kitchen timer.
All books published by Indigo Ink Books – because even my imaginary publisher is too cheap to spring for colour covers.
I live somewhere damp in the North, drink tea that could dissolve spoons, and wander the moors muttering at sheep when the voices in my head get too loud. If Philip K. Dick and Les Dawson had a love-child who grew up on a diet of rain and disappointment, you’d be looking at him.
So go on then, treat yourself to something cheap, filthy, and proudly British.
Life’s too short for tasteful literature.–
Owen Croft
(Still alive, still skint, still taking the piss since 1970-whatever)
The Knobfather out May 11th 2026