When I gaze at my elusive beauty in the glass, I find it hard to imagine that there are as many Manny doppelgangers as there are: one in Keighley, breaking local lasses' hearts (I got slapped by one in a pub once), One in Eastern Europe, making 'thumbs up' gestures as other parts of his anatomy than his thumbs go up; and now a commuting gnome. Perhaps God felt it was unfair for Yorkshire to hog me and made some spares.