Showing posts with label denis howell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label denis howell. Show all posts

20110829

Thursday October 14, 1976



Pouring rain all day again. It's been like this now for three bloody weeks. All I can say is that I hope Denis Howell, MP, picks up this new VD germ from his mistress. Minister for Drought indeed!

Meet Judith R outside the YP at one o'clock. Make a mad, frantic dash under umberellas to the Central [Station] where we sit until 2 o'clock with her doing most of the talking. I like listening to Judith. She tells me just how tactful she was on Tuesday not mentioning today's meeting in the presence of Lynne. I agree. She then tells me I'm going to be her next blackmail victim. I disagree.

Home at 5.15 in pouring rain. Rain, rain and rain. Oh, when will it all end?

Newsworthy things: Dame Edith Evans, the actress of 'Lady Bracknell' fame, is dead. Nothing else at all, so far. [It is only 6.43pm so anything could happen between now and midnight - MLR]. Oh yes, Winnie the Pooh is 50 years old today. Good old Pooh Bear. Royal items: King James II is 343 years old today and Jane Seymour, third wife of Henry VIII, bit the dust on this day in 1537. Miscellaneous anniversaries: Nora Rhodes passed her driving test on this day in 1974.

Meanwhile: 12.23am. To say it's pouring down would be something of an under-estimation. Pissing is the more proper adjective. Goodnight.

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20110819

Monday September 27, 1976



A wet, awful day. Do you recall how I said on Saturday that people who mention the so-called drought to me will have their balls crushed in a vice and be made to sit through a complete performance of the Max Bygraves TV show? Well, I'm now increasing the sentence to the death penalty. Silly Denis Howell wants his head examining.

My photographs of Christine White's 21st and my weekend at Thornton-le-Dale came today. All good, but one of Lynne and I, and one of Lynne at Castle Howard have not developed.

From 9 until 11am I painted the gloss bits of the bathroom. Quite a pleasant job really. John rings later to say Maria is going into hospital at 2pm tomorrow for tests, but we assume immediately that the time has come at last.

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20110729

Wednesday August 25, 1976




Gasp...Gasp.. I'm still here anyway. The heatwave continues. Jim Callaghan has appointed one of his Cabinet ministers to be 'Minister of Drought'. It's a good idea really because the general public likes to have sombody to blame for the bloody awful mess we are all in. I for one will not be sorry to see our water supplies cut off. It's just what this bloody country needs. Britain needs such a crisis to help get us all back on our feet. We didn't have soccer hooligans in the war did we? Why was that, do you think? I'll tell you why. It's because all the young lads were up to their eye balls in a Malayan swamp, or sat playing 'knock out whist' in a trench in the Dardanelles. You mark my words. Stand-pipes in the streets and on the highways of Britain will act as a unifying force to the nation and before you can say Ethel Kennedy we will have a Tory Government in office once again. Margaret Thatcher may look daft, but under that peroxide exterior lurks a fiendish little brain.

Lynne comes up for tea at 6.30 and at 7 o'clock we're in Bradford to see 'The Outlaw Josie Wales' at the ABC with Tony - and surprisingly, with Carol J. I can never fathom Mr Brotherwood's relationships. One minute it's on, and the next ....The film is very good. Clint Eastwood as a cowboy. Back to Tony's new dilapidated flat until 12.30. Carol was peeved about something.

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Wednesday May 2, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11 Mum. To try and keep a journal, run and pub and a baby is asking the impossible. Gone is that old wit and sparkle b...