A busy day really. Sarah, Carol and I go down to Whitelocks for a few jars and a bite to eat. Sarah is really funny. She could get pissed on a pint of water. Two ciders and she's anybodys.
Maybe I'm just a cynic but I had to laugh at a marriage announcement in the Times this morning. Lady Jane Fitzalan-Howard, daughter of the old Duke of Norfolk who was taken from us three and a half weeks ago, is to marry Lord Ancram, the elder son of the Marquis of Lothian. Now you may think nothing of this at all, but I can't help having my doubts. The old duke must have refused to allow any of his daughters to leave his side. Threats of cutting them off without a penny, &c. Was Uncle Bernard typranical? Let's see how quickly the three remaining daughters grab a few men and march them down the aisle.
Thank God it's pay day tomorrow. I'm really stony broke this week. What with saving up for Majorca and bloody Barclaycard I'll be bloody grey and toothless by my 20th birthday. It's a week since I've heard from Marian. So I may as well wave bye bye to her, and Gillian's stopped mauling me. So I once again revert to a celibate state. Anyone would think I'm standing for Pope at the next election. Pope Michael the First. Yes, that's got a nice ring to it.
John doesn't go out. Chris collects me at 8.30. To the Hare & Hounds with Laura and Carol. Have a few laughs, though nothing startling occurs.
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