Showing posts with label campbell spray. Show all posts
Showing posts with label campbell spray. Show all posts

20131127

Tuesday October 24, 1978

Moon's Last Quarter 01:34

United Nations Day (1945)

Wet, cold and windy. Climbed out of bed at 10am. Went with Mum and Dad to Morrison's to help with the grotesque shopping. Supermarkets are beastly dens. I wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that William Morrison is really Wilhelm von Moritzon, the SS chief and war criminal extraordinaire. Not even Adolf Hitler could have conjured up something quite so evil as a vast, music~filled chamber heavily laden with packets of breakfast cereal and cellophane~wrapped streaky bacon. Hideous.

To the YP twixt 5 and 12. Campbell Spray was sneering about Jacq. Miss Sate really is the limit encouraging C. Spray in this ridiculous fashion. I will not play Edward Langtry to her Lillie.

Home in a dull, uninteresting taxi at 12. Cheese on toast, Ovaltine and a pomegranate. Weird, yet pleasant. To bed at 1:32am. It took me 12 minutes to complete this page.

-=-

20131125

Friday October 20, 1978

Steve Sharp's leaving party this evening.

This afternoon Sarah, Carol J and I went to Parker's and then to Len's for a few lunchtime drinkies to get me in the right frame of mind for the festivities. The girls are refusing to go to Steve's orgy because the Eagle pub on North Street is something of a rough dive, they say. What does it matter?

At 6 o'clock John Mac took Alan Macgregor and I to the Eagle. Timothy Taylor's bitter was drained in vast quantities from the outset. I sat with Steve, Geoff Winter, Sue Tirbutt, Jill Armstrong, Fred (Manby) &c. I collected Jacq at 7:30 after fighting my way through the vast crowds in Leeds queueing to see Mr Revolta in 'Grease'. I am shocked that millions of apparently educated people should sink to such depths of incredible madness.

By 10:30 we were all quite pissed. At one point Steve used the back of my tie to write down a lengthy drinks order. Oh My God! It all looked very 'punk' anyway.

Jacq and I went with John MacM and a new lady YP reporter to Steve's place at Alwoodley where we drank ourselves stupid. I was violently sick on the manicured front lawn, and after a few gins I passed into a tranquil state of unconsciousness from which I didn't emerge until morn. In the meantime Jacq was mauled by Campbell Spray, and she sustained injuries to her left ankle on the dance floor.

-=-

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...