Oh, Manchester, So Much To Answer For

It's about fucking time I write, again. As Alfred knows better than anyone, I like to make promises about writing projects I'm going to start, often, which never get completed (if I even start them). I've got a couple of things on the burner (and no, Alf, right now a new blog isn't one of them, right now), including a possible book proposal I'm starting to work on. Time to get my critical, and writing, muscles back in shape.