I started to keep a journal in January, 1973, when I was 17 years old ~ and compiled it as if it was written for a future grandchild.
Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
Monday July 24, 1978
The YP landed on me with a resounding crash. The whole thing is simply too horrific to discuss. Well, it was like this. I was minding my own business in the fashion that I usually mind my own business in, and quite by chance I found myself on Wellington Street, a grubby, protrusion smelling of alcohol, abutting the famous City Square. Then it happened. Yes, a large, grey, slime~covered building leapt out in my path and before I could struggle or make a dash for it I had been totally devoured. It was the Yorkshire Post.
Ode to the Yorkshire Post
I believe you are a newspaper,
Keith's Mum seems to think so anyway,