Showing posts with label duke of beaufort. Show all posts
Showing posts with label duke of beaufort. Show all posts

20120319

Monday April 4, 1977

Thoroughly ordinary sort of day. Just routine at the YP and usual at home. No telephone calls or great news other than the astounding information that the Duke of Beaufort is 77 years old today!

Piss off Michael. You don't half talk a load of shit at times.

                                          POEM
Duke of Beaufort.

Good Old Duke of Beaufort,
You're Seventy Seven today,
with all that luscious parkland,
You're a C*nt with a capital K

(c) MLR.

No, to be honest, I don't like being vulgar. Besides which I'm a leading fan of all dukes of all age and varying fortune. It's quite a while since I made such a silly entry as this. Yes, indeed.

S H I T 


Oh sod it! You've guessed by now I'm doing all this just to waste space. I can't bear to see blank pages in the diary. I bet Evelyn Waugh or Samuel Pepys never did this. Mind you, that's probably why they're famous. Publishers like Michael Joseph or Lord Weidenfeld will be far from enthusiastic by my contribution on this page.

Retire to bed at 12.15am on the morn of my 22nd birthday.

-==-





20090326

Tuesday February 27, 1973

Susan woke me up at 7.45. For the first hour I felt completely dead to the world - and went through breakfast in a complete daze - much to Mum's annoyance. Went down on 8.30 bus. Christine B and I had our usual morning gossip. Also had a chat with Denise for the first time in about a month. The lovely June arrived at about 9.45 - alas, she and Linda were in silly moods for the greater part of the day. For the first two lessons I revised British politics 1945-51 - for the test at 11.45. The test itself was perfect -well, the first bit was. It said: " a. Account for the Labour victory of 1945, and, b. the Labour defeat of 1951." I woffled on for three quarters of an hour - Mrs Lane will no doubt find space to tear it to bits in tomorrow's lesson. June was still off at lunch - she still is cool towards me.

Princess Anne and Lieut. Phillips are "jumping" at the Duke of Beaufort's pad at Badminton. Not sexually of course, but equestrian jumping.

June and I are back on speaking terms by 2.30. She went off for lessons leaving me alone with Louise and Martin V-B. Later, Dave, Christine Chid, Louise and I messed about in the common room until nearly 4. I did manage to fill in my college application forms and get them posted.

Chris was disturbed when he heard I'd been acting the fool with Louise. But he pulled round when he mentioned that Louise had gone in for the young farmers' Dairy Queen Contest - I made the quip: "Cow of the Year 1973" - we all had a good laugh.

June and I both agreed today that we spend far too much time pulling people to bits over one thing or another. It's either Janet Roots, Louise or some unsuspecting fellow scholar - and our derogatgory comments are only growing worse with the passing days. Poor Janet is said to be really upset about what I have said of her in recent weeks - I should have a guilty conscience. I must now make a solemn promise that never again will I say anything nasty about ____ because really she is a nice natured girl. In fact, if it was not for her ugly face I could quite fancy her.

June accompanied me to the bus stop at 4.30 where we stood hand in hand until the dreaded No. 55 bus came. Louise and Denise were with us. Before we parted June promised not to fall out with me tomorrow.

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Wednesday May 9, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, &c Still dull outside. Who cares? Our alarm clock is on the blink and refuses to sound off. Samuel laid patiently...