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Friday October 3, 1975

Wake at about 7.45 with a terrible hangover. This continues throughout the day and doesn't wear off until long after lunch.

The girls in the office were arguing like Hell and Sarah almost bit Kathleen's head off when K came in at 2.30. I like to keep out of situations like that because you don't stand a chance arguing with four of five of the fair sex.

Go down to the Hare with Carole, Lynn, Dave, John, 'George', Pete M, &c, &c. CD and CB are of course in. Hear from Andy that he and Keith wrecked Keith's car near the Commercial last night. One day they'll be killed and that's no exaggeration.

At 11pm Dave and Lynn surprise me by saying they fancy going to the Cow & Calf, where Lynn's never been before. So Carole, CD, Lynn, Dave and me go up in Dave's car.

We have a great night and do nothing but laugh - especially on the way home over the moor singing 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang'. The sound of our voices must have echoed throughout Yorkshire on this cold, autumnal evening. CD especially made a terrific noise, and after dropping Carole off at Menston she said she could hear us going all the way to White Cross. Home at 2.30 feeling tired, but most of all hoarse.


Thursday October 2, 1975

Excitement at work this morning. As ever, I was going through the Court Circular quenching my daily thirst for knowing what Her Majesty has been up to, and to my great surprise I see that the Duchess of Kent is to visit the Yorkshire Post on November 25. I know that over the years I have said horrible, unforgivable things about Yorkshire's own Royal duchess, but I can assure you that I've out-grown this childish phase now. The duchess does a brilliant job, and I must state categorically that the stories I wrote about her were nothing more than figments of my imagination. My vendetta against the House of Kent is over.

To Leeds in a thunderstorm with John at 7.30 and we meet about six lads in a despicable pub called the 'Tam O' Shanter' or something. After winding our way up the Headrow we end up in Cinderella's in something of a dislocated, drunken fashion. Raymond ends up grovelling on the floor, and Dave, the groom-to-be, is with a sizeable wench in a red dress. If his intended looks anything like that object I sincerely feel for him in his last week of freedom. John and I get a taxi from Cinderella's at 2am, and the thing cost £3.30. Split between the two of us it wasn't all that tragic. Slept soundly after devouring a sandwich.


Wednesday October 1, 1975

Down to meet Carole at 8.15pm and sit with her mother, aunt and uncle until she is ready to go out. This family really is hilarious, and coupled with the Frankie Howerd Show on TV I was all in all on the verge of hysterics.

Go across to the Hare at about 8.45 with Carole and it's incredibly quiet. Only Helen and CD are to be seen, and the atmosphere of the place is changing weekly. See Raymond, who tells me that Dave (his little friend) is to be married a week on Saturday and is having his "stag" night tomorrow. This entails a pub crawl through Leeds and an orgy in Cinderella's afterwards. John and I are going, but I don't think any of the other lads will be. Keith isn't really 'in' with the Raymond Bond set.

To get a bit philosophical. What is love and how does one define it? This is the ten dollar question. ______told ________that she loved him and asked if he felt the same way too. His reply was that never having been in love before he needed time to make up his mind what being in love actually entails. Is it possible to go through life thinking you are in love with someone only to find that you actually never were? Carole seems upset when I say I fall in love with every girl I go out with. She says I am the only boy she's loved and cannot understand why I have managed to get hitched from the heart many times before. Am I just gullable, or is falling in love like falling off the kerb as far as I'm concerned?