Showing posts with label dog shit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dog shit. Show all posts

20111119

Tuesday November 16, 1976


Yet another mundane sort of day. Go to lunch at 12 o'clock and muck around in town attempting to espy a velvet jacket but fail to do so. I'd like one before the Christmas season gets under way.

Pictures have arrived in the library of this so-called Luxembourg princess. [She's] not particularly attractive and I find the whole topic of her possible marriage to the Prince of Wales a nauseating one. A Roman Catholic! Dr Cobweb [the Archbishop of Canterbury] would throw a fit. He wouldn't be happier either even if she renounced her Roman Catholic faith. Besides, I'm sure that HRH is about as much attached to Princess Marie-Astrid as I am to _____________.

Intended spending a night at home with 'Edward VIII'. Lynne rings at 5.30. She's staying here over the weekend for a change and we are not going out until Friday at her suggestion. That's fine with me if she fancies playing it cool. Ring Tony at 7. I accompany him over to John Cameron's at 8. Take John to the YP and then have a coffee with Jill, after wading through piles of dog shit. All the same, Jill is quite nice.

At 10 o'clock we get to the Hare & Hounds. Carole is down at the far end with [Peter] Fogarty and Denise. They don't acknowledge us. We don't acknowledge them. Home at 10.45 and up to bed.

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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...