Whether you're into dirt bikes, road bikes, ride a Yamaha, scooter or Laverda, if you've ever experienced the primal rush of riding a motor bike, the pain of crashing, the suffering of healing and the epiphanies of speed, then this book is for you.

My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me is about friendship, treachery, girls in tight pants, and motorcycles that have been possessed by Satan.

It's about brotherhood, camaraderie, drugs, alcohol, and being hounded by the police for daring to combine them all at once. It's about racing 1000 kilometres through the night for money and thrills. It's about massive amputations, bovine stupidity, maniacal genius and the wisdom of the old.

It's about chance and fate and suffering, being two people at once and being handcuffed in a Melbourne gutter. It's about being cold and crazy and hopeful and irredeemably lost. It's about impossible highs and soul-crushing lows, about demons and brothers and dirt and danger, and houses with iron bars instead of glass in their windows. Essentially it's about Boris Mihailovic's life. With motorcycles.