To the YP after 10am. Sarah isn't sexy any more, and I'm going to stop writing about women in these pages because I am frequently making a bloody fool of myself. I change my mind like nobody's business.
Hear from 'George' this evening that Carole is ill in bed with one of her funnny heads again. At 8pm John takes me down to Menston and I buy him a drink in the Hare & Hounds. It is a bloody nasty wet night, so I'm relieved when he takes me straight to Carole's door.
Mrs Phillips bundles me upstairs where the Angel is propped up in bed looking like a ghost on the operating table. We sit watching TV. (Yes, she's the owner of a little portable one), and I stay with her for a couple of hours. I sit hunched on her bed and laugh at the pathetic sight of the rose I gave her on Friday night. There is is, all wilting upon her dressing table. She was reading, and re-reading the letter I wrote to her some days ago, so I think it's about time I created another one for her. The Darling Girl loves me I think. I hate people loving me - it gives me the frightening sense of having to be reliable, responsible and faithful. However, she is perfection itself.
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Saturday May 5, 1984
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds Poor Diana Dors has run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. Aged 52, she has suffered from cancer. We laz...
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3rd Sunday after Epiphany 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford Baby slept until 6am which is amazing. Ally however woke at three and then... -
5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford Samuel has a hairy back and shoulders, you know. I have to record these things because in ten years ...
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