Oh, Manchester!

Hi there! To explain the “Oh, Manchester!” thing, first there's a line in The Smiths song called Suffer Little Children that says, “Oh, Manchester, so much to answer for!” and it’s been stuck in my head for days. Or years? Whenever there is a quiet moment, for example, when I’m standing awkwardly in the middle of a gym, leaning on a hockey stick, the liquid voice of Morrissey will pop into my head, moaning something about, “Over the moors, I’m on the moors.” Fug, what a weird song, come to think of it. The Smiths have a lot of really weird songs, but there are so many priceless one-liners. “Ask me why, and I’ll spit in your eye.” Arg, so amazing. I’ve been asked so many stupid “why” questions in my life. “Why are you so weird?” “Why do you wear £500 shoes?” “Why is there a bandaid on your head?” (So, yeah, that one isn’t so stupid.) “Why can’t you just not be that childish?” I don’t know, I’m not you. Just stupid questions that have no sufficient answer. “Because I’m cool?” Right? Stupid questions. A bunch of...