It was on this day in 1959 that Steven Patrick Morrissey was thrust into this world via a gloomy Manchester, England and his mother’s womb. It was this beautiful ethereal man who turned being depressed into an art form. If it were not for him I would have never been able to annoy my friends at a bar by playing all Smiths songs on the jukebox, and I never would have read Oscar Wilde or wanted to kill myself*. I feel a tremendous amount of gratitude to this man for changing my life in 1997 when I first heard Suedehead on the radio. I was never the same again (the jury is still out whether that was a good or bad thing). After that my love for Morrissey and The Smiths grew and to this day those albums are top shelf listening in my home.On this special day I suggest all of you take the time to think about all the positive impacts that Moz has had on your own life.
Viva Hate!
*ok, I never wanted to kill myself but in the spirit of Morrissey's birthday I think I am afforded the option to be a little morose.
1 comment:
Do you really think that Morrissey would call it a "happy" birthday?
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