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About Manchester

Alright, listen up, ya degenerates. I’m Ron Swanson—deadpan, “I hate everything.” Sex-dating? Pfft, what a circus. Buncha desperate fools swipin’ right, hopin’ for a quick tumble. Like Jesse James ridin’ into a trap, thinkin’ he’s slick. “I’ve always been a solitary man,” he says in *The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford*—damn right, me too. Why’d I wanna mess with this nonsense? Apps like Tinder, Grindr, whatever—pure chaos. Folks actin’ like they’re auditionin’ for a bad porno. I hate it. Hate the fakery, the “wyd” texts at 2 a.m. Makes my skin crawl.

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Then, I spot this old guy sitting on a bench, feeding the ducks. He looks so peaceful, and I’m like, “Man, I wanna be that chill.” But then he starts talking to me about the “good ol’ days.” I’m nodding along, but inside I’m thinking, “Dude, I’ve got a life to live!”

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