p.11 - I think back to that day when fat Bernadette wrapped a leather belt around her neck and proceeded to pull it tightly in both directions, thus possibly killing herself as she sat at her wonky desk in the classroom of B2. ‘I’m gonna do it!’ Miss Dudley seems irritated by the fact that she is taking so long.
p.22 - Mother is Mother, and never Mum (or the ghastly Manchester ‘Mam’); she is glamorous foremost, and then she is other things.
p.52 - 1971 brings a partial eclipse at 9:40 AM, plunging the skies of Britain into 69 per cent blackness; Nannie drops to her knees and prays for salvation at what she is certain is the end of the world. Alas, it is not.
p.83 - ‘Yes, ‘ snaps Miss Power, ‘and YOU’RE another one not content with the hair colour given to you by Christ.’ Baffled, I immediately imagined Christ setting my hair beneath a blow-dryer.
p. 145 - In 1982, Johnny [Marr] appears at Kings Road immaculately be-quiffed and almost carried away by his own zest to make meaningful music.
P. 173 - I vomit profusely when I discover that the album has been pressed in Japan with Sandie Shaw’s version of Hand In Glove included. I am so disgusted by this that I beg people to kill me. Many rush forward.
p. 178 - Geoff [Travis] swivels in a large chair and I balance on a footstool as the song plays. How Soon Is Now? struck me as a new landmark, but once the track had ended, Geoff broke the silence:
‘WHAT is Johnny doing?’ he said, ‘THAT is just NOISE.’
p. 269 - ‘The prettiest star wasn’t on Ziggy Stardust,’ Mr Know-all returns. Siouxsie stiffens, and we shall never be friends. She is very much as I had expected – a physical blancmange that is six parts Kate O’Mara, two parts Myra Hindley and two parts Fenella Fielding. She had replaced Croydon for the Black Forest, and she appears to hate even the people that she likes.
p.278 - ‘I spoke to the doctor about human suffering,’ I squint.
‘I feel sorry for the doctor,’ says Jake.
‘I said I agreed that suffering wasn’t much of a price to pay if your life eventually sorts itself out, but he-‘
‘Oh shut UP,’ says Jake. So I shut up.
p. 318 - DAVIS: You are very careful with your words, Mr Morrissey.
ME: Well, I’m in court.
p. 359 - Kirsty MacColl had entered my life in 1985. She had arrived at RAK studios in north London to sing backing vocals on Bigmouth Strikes Again. She walked towards me carrying a bulging Londis bag.
‘Today’s laundry?’ are my first words to her.
She laughs and opens the bag to reveal a cluster clutter of canned beer. ‘If I’m gonna sing with Morrissey I want us both to have a good time,’ she says, and chuckles that warm deep-in-the-chest giggle of hers. A friendship for life is born.
p. 394 - [In Istanbul] Twelve thousand gather for the Morrissey concert, and the promoter smiles to me. ‘You are very big here. I just heard Roy’s Keen on the radio.’ My smile crashes. Roy’s Keen? A bubble-headed choice.