Showing posts with label brian johnson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brian johnson. Show all posts

20130611

Friday April 14, 1978

Mother woke me at 10:30 with a coffee and the horrible Daily Mail. Half an hour later they collected Edith and Ernest and set off to Morecambe where they are holidaying for the weekend.

A bright, sunny morning, but the confounded snow is still clinging to the garden. The poor daffodils look absolutely stupid. I sat with the radio blasting merrily away and with a volume of Mr Pepys's journal laying open. The 1650s were no less permissive than the 1970s. Some of the people today who moan about the state of affairs ~ morally ~ really should spend half an hour with Samuel Pepys, Esq.

I spent the whole day eating, reading and being blasted out of my chair by the record player. Sarah phoned at lunchtime to ask for the maiden name of the divorced wife of the present Earl of Dartmouth. After a slight pause I told her that the lady is the former Miss Raine McCorquodale, now wife of Lord Spencer, and daughter of the revolting authoress Barbara Cartland. To be honest, I thought Sarah was really phoning to see if I was really laid up at home, and the aristocratic inquiry was a last resort when I surprised her by picking up the receiver. I do have a devious mind.


Raine McCorquodale, Countess Spencer.

For lunch I made fish and parsley sauce with a touch of garlic. Susan was home at 4:30 and we had a prawn curry. Can you imagine what state my breath is in? However, undaunted, I met Jacq at 7:45 and went to the Yorkshire Rose. From here we went to the Crown at Yeadon (a cold night) and then the Clothiers where we were joined by Sue, Pete, Gus, Chippy, Janet Simon, Dave (Wainwright), Brian Johnson, &c. I was 'grossly over served' with drink, for the want of a better phrase, and smoked several of Jacq's cigarettes.

At 11:30 we all went back to Pine Tops where the spotty faced, teenage Dave made several passes at Jacq saying he'd never liked Cockneys until he met her. To be honest, he was only hanging around to smoke her cigs.

I was legless and threw up in the garden that is dear Papa's pride and joy. I was in a disgusting state. Chippy and Gus were behaving in a riotous fashion.

Lynn and Dave were utter miseries and she stormed off to bed after Dave's departure and insisted on yelling down at me from the top of the stairs about the volume of the record player. Susan and Peter somehow managed to snatch my bed and Jacq and I collapsed on Mum and Dad's bed. I think it was probably 2:30am when things died down.

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20130328

Monday March 27, 1978

Easter Monday

Bank Holiday (UK, except Scotland)

I fear that I'm the only person in the Kingdom going out to work today. The roads were barren and void of all life. The occasional raincoat-clad old age pensioner kept appearing on the horizon, but that was about all.

Just Sarah and I in the office. Completely dead. We had one phone call between 8:30 and 2pm, when I left.

I left Sarah reading the opera score of 'The Rape of Lucretia' by Britten. She's really into music since Mr MacMurray entered her world.

I walked in the sunshine to Kirkstall and then got a bus home. Spent the remainder of the afternoon sticking photos in Mama's album and then dined at 5 with Sue, Pete, Mum & Dad.

Chris
Christopher phoned at 6:15 to see if I fancied going out. I agreed.  He came up at 8 after dining with Denise at the Flying Pizza in Burley. We stayed for an hour or so in the Fox discussing the adventures of recent times. His 'affair' with Michelle is a weird one. I can't see why they bother. He says Pete M is moving to Otley in June but the Mather's are retaining Ty-Onnen (Bramhope) for holiday purposes. I'm glad because poor Vera (Mather) despises Thornton-le-Dale. I like Chris, but I'm always mindful of what my old grandma used to say: "never trust men with specs who live in Horsforth and work in banks". We went down to join Sue, Pete, Gus, Johnny and Chippy at the Shoulder of Mutton.




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20130324

Saturday March 25, 1978

Sun rises 06:53 Sun sets 19:22

Last Day of Lent

I cannot really capture the humour and hilarity of situations. The previous page, for instance, is just a list of events conveying none of the fantastic jokes. I do try at least.

Chippy attempted to annoy me last night (and I mean ALL night) by saying outrageous things like 'the Queen has three tits'. Gus did nothing but sing abusive home made verses all night and only Johnny slept for any of the time.

AT 6:00am I was awakened by an unfamiliar flapping noise to discover the tent in pieces around our sleeping forms. Johnny noticed this too and we ran about the field clad only in underpants and boots reassembling the devastated tent. Wet and bedraggled we returned to our damp sleeping bags for a few hours. Yes, the weather is somewhat different to yesterday's heatwave.

By 9 the sun was shining and Sue was taking photographs of scantily clad males when she should have been frying bacon and things. Chippy made a nauseating breakfast and then we just waited until the Fountain opened it's doors. All afternoon in the pub wasn't just a boozing exercise ~ it was shelter from the hail, snow ~ yes SNOW that had decided to pelt us after lunch. A gloomy mob ~ including a couple of new arrivals ~ sat deciding the fate of the expedition. Sadly, we chose to return to civilisation, and we did so with great haste at about 3:30. Although we had only one night it was well worth it. I think I have got to know this year's holiday companions much better, and as soon as the travel agents open on Tuesday I'm going to cancel.

Susan is incredible. I must be infatuated with my little sis. Her personality is so pleasantly extrovert and mature and I get the feeling I have underestimated her for years. She can certainly take care of herself in the company of crude, offencive youths and come out on top. She's a natural leader of men. I can see her as a successor to Margaret Thatcher with no trouble at all.

We are home for 5. Dave L phones to say I have to join him ten pin bowling and go afterwards with him, and Christine, to Oakwood Hall and Carol Smith's engagement party. I said no, but Christine rang minutes later and she told me I have no choice in the matter. To the bowling therefore with my arm up my back. Christine looked ravishing. Never have I seen her look so desirable. I could have devoured her on the spot. I fact she put me off my bowling skills.

To Oakwood Hall at 8:30 and we did nothing but laugh hysterically all night. In fact it became quite ridiculous. David, Christine and I are the only energetic people left. For hours we watched ~ open mouthed ~ whilst John, Maria, and others sat around discussing the finer points of plastic buckets and Vymura wallpaper. Is this what marriage is all about? David is a great guy. Tony and Martyn came in.

Much booze and much dancing and many laughs later we came home. It was only midnight, but on Easter Saturday discotheques close early for some pathetic reason. No doubt the Pope objects to us, the three nut cases, going out on the town. Oh, how we enjoyed tonight.



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20130322

Friday March 24, 1978

Full Moon 17:20 Good Friday Bank Holiday (Scotland)

Sorry about the murky ink. It's the alcohol level in my fingers that's created a chemical reaction on contact with the pen.

The morning was actually sunny and warm ~ ideal in fact for dashing out and hurtling oneself under canvas for a few days, hey?

Mum and Dad went down to Burley in Wharfedale armed with champagne to see Lynn and Dave who started work on their new house at Lawn Road this morning. I was left to my own devices until Sue and Pete collected me at 12:30. The boozing started at the Station Hotel where we were joined by Chippy (Gerald Ash), Gus (Adrian Ramsden) and Johnny (Brian Johnson). From here at 2pm we departed for Hawes. (Oh yes, I phoned Christine to see if she fancied coming to Hawes tomorrow with Dave L, saying we'll be at the Fountain pub).

The afternoon was sunny and cold and we spent most of the time erecting the damnable tent. The whole spectacle took on the form of a circus act and much screaming and clowning was indulged in. I especially like Brian, or Johnny as he is known, who is at Trinity and All Saints College training to teach maths. He is an old flame of Lynn's  ~ when they were in their early teens. Once the tent was up we made a revolting evening meal and then found solace in the Fountain. Much ale merriment and debauchery took place. In fact, we sounded like French Revolution peasants after four or five rounds. I really admire Susan for her fortitude and capability to 'muck in'  with a crowd of young men. Not many young ladies could do this. Lynn for one, is not the type to go off in a tent with five young men for Easter.


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Sunday March 25, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn British Summer Time begins 3rd Sunday in Lent Bacon sandwiches and the Sunday Telegraph. Fuss about the Queen's visit to ...