All Growed Up

It’s Belfast, 1982, and an eighteen-year-old boy wearing Hai Karate aftershave has a date with destiny. He’s a real man now, so he is, and shaving twice a week. Following his successful career as a breadboy, he’s going where few people from the upper Shankill have boldly gone before: to university. He trades the comforts of home for a life of Yellow Pack beans, student digs and late-night intellectual debates on sex, socialism and The Smiths, but this former paperboy doesn’t forget his roots, so