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Well, Mr Shandy and myself would pass happily if we NEVER had to endure 'Black Cloud' again - especially at a concert! Too dreary for words. The bombast, the cliches, the muzak - simply awful, dears.

Mr Shandy and myself frequently amuse ourselves flicking each other through our favourite Morrissey memorabilia. We often remind each other of stage props and backdrops we have enjoyed across the years and sometimes see an image that would be perfect hanging from the rafters at the back of the...

Mr Shandy and myself often wonder what would be the last song we would like to hear, the song that would be our earworm, for eternity.

Oh, my dear! Mr Shandy and myself were at that DREADFUL night in Liverpool land when some frightful oik tossed a bottle of piss at the quiff mid-way through TCM. Mr Shandy and I were forced to spend the rest of the evening on the docks. Liverpool - a truly terrible hole.

Black Cloud - I will prolapse if I ever have to listen to THAT one again

National Front Disco

It's a pean to London Rain by Louis MacNeice - do please read it; it's the greatest Morrissey lyric not written or recorded by him. Please yourself, dear.

Mr Shandy has just limped back from Shudehill with an 'acetate' of IANADOAC. In a rare moment of agreement we are declaring 'Hurling Days' a late-career masterpiece.

Born one and three months later than Morrissey, Mr Shandy and myself have absolutely NO intention of retiring nor, I suspect, does he. Howevers . . . not sure how long his current stage 'presence' can be maintained: wandering on looking as if he's called on the off-chance of advising you on...

Mr Shandy and myself will be trotting off down Tib Street later to do a spot of panic buying: cat litter, brylcreem, chickpeas and vegan lubricants. What will YOU lot be panic buying? Mmm?

'Black Cloud' was a particular low-point for us, especially when he INSISTED on flogging it to death in concerts. I almost dressed on the left fopr once

Could someone please describe his outfit this evening? Thanking you

It's virtually the same, you silly sausage

It sounds divine - we can hardly wait for Pop-it-in-Pete the Postman to rattle our flaps

'They are obviously both male' In a manner of speaking.

Goodness! How rude! For the record: I am Mr Bonaparte Shandy. My long-time 'other' is Mr Sullivan Shandy. We're quite the fluid flippertygibbets around town: often I'm a he, frequently he's a she and sometimes both of us are in such a tizz we haven't got a clue what we are! It works for us . . .

And so, Mr Shandy and I made it back to the Northern Quarter of Manchester (no thanks to the utter OAFS of Northern Rail). Cat’s still alive. ANYWAY, we had a delightful weekend in Leeds; noshed a few vegans on Saturday afternoon and turned up in the Turks Head gin shop (one up from the...

BWTTTIHS WAS SUBLIME

Mr and Mr Shandy have just been upgraded!