Showing posts with label david bowie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label david bowie. Show all posts

20120806

Tuesday July 5, 1977

Good weather continues but the forecast says it will change for the worst on Thursday. Who cares? With the coup d'etat in Pakistan we have far more important things to worry about.

The Ostlers.
Out at lunchtime to the Ostlers with Sarah. She and Peter B finished last night on a dramatic note - as her relationships always seem to end. Had 2 halves of lager and soaked up the details.

Comments on my haircut: Stephanie Ferguson says I look like something (note not somebody) from the Stranglers (a Punk Rock group) and later in the afternoon she toned it down to David Bowie. Sarah spoiled it all and crumbled my ego by saying I looked like 'the queer waiter at the Damn Yankee'.

Rang Carole at 2 and had it out with her. I said all the things that have been on my mind all weekend but left out the most pointed abuse because she said she was going to cry. We both blamed each other and then _____________. I called her all the names under the sun (except the really rude ones for some gentleman-like romantic reason) and arranged to go out with her on Thursday. Or perhaps I should say I decided we were going out on Thursday. She's bringing my T-shirt with her. Oh, it's all so mixed up, isn't it? My love life, or lack of it, is far from stable. Am I jinxed?

Cut the lawns tonight. Dave B came and took Lynn to her shift at the Hare - I went with them and on with Dave to George Waite's on business. Back to the Hare at 9 for the last hour. Naomi was quite chatty and says she'll send a postcard to Ibiza.

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20101117

Sunday May 9, 1976


3rd after Easter. In contrast with yesterday it is wet, cold and dismal. A typical boring Sunday.

Denise rings at mid-day and says she's going to see the David Bowie film this afternoon and cannot come up to see me.

Do nothing but eat all day. Sometimes I wonder why my apetite is so large. Must be all this sexual activity and generally dissipated way of life. No such bloody luck!

See the D.H. Lawrence film 'Virgin and the Gypsy' which I first saw years ago with David L. A good film, but my memory of it was that it was much more 'dirty'. However, what is 'dirty' at 15 is very often tedius and insignificant at 21. Yes, it's senility creeping up on me.

Ring Chris and he says he took Carole to the Craven Heifer yesterday. He didn't go into great detail but tells me she was more 'cheerful and back to her usual self'. John and Maria went too. No doubt my name was dirt.

Bed at 11.40pm. Read P.G. Wodehouse's 'Service with a Smile'. Very funny indeed.

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20100323

Saturday May 17, 1975



Hilarious day. Mum got me out of bed at 12 to accomapny her to Morrison's for the weekly pile of nosh and general necessities. In unbearable heat we chase about the shop for the best part of an hour, picking Sue up at the hairdressers on the way home.

A 2pm Gillian comes round with 'Diamond Dogs' by Bowie, and after half an hour the two of us decide to pay a call on Chris, who is messing about with his guttering (roof guttering and all that) with the aid and assistance of John of course. After messing about on a couple of buses Gillian and I arrive at Horsforth at about 2.30 to discover Mrs Ratcliffe pottering around in the rubble of what was once 21, Victoria Drive. She was all covered in paint saying things like: 'Oh, Chris and John disappeared half an hour ago down Town Street'. We sat about waiting for the two workers to return and when they do we follow them outside and clown about on the lawn, eating ice lollipops and making foolery and merriment. John dangling about at the top of a ladder just didn't look safe, and Gillian felt quite sickly just watching him. Home at about 6 in a mild drizzle to have tea.

Mum and Dad are at Leeds General Infirmary visiting Auntie Mabel, and therefore I make the tea consisting of fish fingers and peas. Very nice too, although I say it myself.

Out to the Hare & Hounds at about 8 and Gillian more or less tags onto me for the night. After a disagreement in the Malt Shovel, Burley-in-Wharfedale, the happy family splits up and Laura takes her mob to Ilkley and John, Gillian, Christine Dibb and I go to the White Horse in Burley to see Cousin Dorothy. We leave at about 11.10 after exchanging reminiscences with Dorothy. Played dominos for the first time in years.

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20091220

Thursday February 20, 1975


Eileen and I go to the Central for lunch again. I say 'again' because we did the same thing last Thursday, but that seems to have been missed from these historic pages. Swill down a few pints of lager before moving reluctantly back to the YP.

Chaos reigned this morning. Evidently, the Dowager Lady Mowbray, Segrave & Stourton saw fit to do herself in last night, and alas, no photos of the obscure, highly neglected lady are to be found in our files. The newsdesk and Donald Futrell went berserk, but calmness was dispersed by our beloved leader, Miss Rainford.

Us librarians are getting sick of the quiet and the cold, which we are forced to endure while workmen install new air conditioning in the press hall. Will we survive until May. Wait and see.

At 8.30 John and I go to Gillian's for a beer and record session (nothing else either). Have one glass of Dad's home brew concoction, then decide not to bother with any more. Listen to the Monty Python LP (mine) and a bit of Bowie's 'Diamond Dogs'. Gillian gets even worse, and I'm going to have to make it clear that a) I'm not going to sleep with her, and b) marry her, or c) buy her the Smirnoff Vodka Company. Home at 12 feeling horribly tired, or incredibly bored. I expect it was the latter disease.

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Sunday April 1, 1984

 4th Sunday in Lent Mothering Sunday New Moon Sunny, bright, &c. Smothering Sunday. All Fool's Day. Busy. Rob came and so too did th...