Thursday July 21, 1977

Mig bewigged ....

Rick's beach party again. A really rough passage and most people didn't drink because of the ghastly rolling and swaying. However, I did manage to drink several bottles of champagne and white wine.

Noel found a wig and we fooled around - we looked remarkably like Elizabeth Taylor. Back at the hotel at about 7.30 and waited half an hour for Sue's call to come through. It was fabulous to hear her little voice all those miles away. It's her 18th (birthday) today of course. Mum says she's missing me. David B's grandmother died on July 15.

Evening: can't remember much really but I pissed off Noel and John's balcony all over the Laker Holiday representative and then went out hand-in-hand with Noel (he still dressed as Elizabeth Taylor).

Became so intoxicated that for the first time ever I became violent. Chris said something which angered me and I lashed out at him and floored him and little Anne in the process. Can I be excused because of the drink? No, not really.








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Monday December 20, 1976

What a year it's been! A good one generally but some horrific spatterings thrown in like salad dressing or mayonnaise - if you see what I mean. Surely the greatest event for the family was the birth of John Philip Hugh on Sept 30. Never have I seen a more placid, happy child. It makes one wonder how the hell we all went on without him gurgling merrily in the background. However, if he grows up thinking he's Napoleon or Elizabeth Taylor I wouldn't be surprised because every time he opens his eyes some fool takes his photograph. Forever in the limelight.

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Thursday November 13, 1975

A cold, crisp, typical autumn morn. To Leeds with Jim. I don't know what I'll do when the day dawns when I find myself Jim Rawnsleyless. The man has been like a chauffeur to me for the best part of three years, and the thought of actually driving myself to work or catching a revolting bus is too bad a thing to even be considered. They don't make good servants like him anymore, you know. They are a dying breed and the world will be a less happier place when they are no more.

Finish at 12. Christine B rings. She's working in Leeds until the end of the month and says we'll have to meet one lunchtime for a pub crawl. I let out a burst of hideous, nervous laughter when she says she and Philip are meeting this lunchtime for summit talks. It will be a year since she finished with him on Boxing Day, but if Elizabeth Taylor can tie the knot once more with Richard Burton I fail to see why they cannot. CD said something was afoot, and I now know what she meant. CB also came out with some unkind remarks about her latest attachment. From what I saw of him last night he did not seem all that formidable, and if anything he struck me as being a cheerful, decent chap. She is seeing him for the last time on Saturday, but I can't help thinking she's making a mistake.

I go into the town centre and drift about wondering what to buy for Carole's 18th birthday next week. I espy a locket in a jewellers window and immediately purchase it. John's given me the money to get her 'Atlantic Crossing' the Rod Stewart LP and I have no trouble getting that either.

Home in the bright sun at 2.15. See in the papers that poor Princess Anne is laid up at Oak Grove with influenza. Tomorrow will be her second wedding anniversary and still we wait anxiously for signs that the marriage has been consumated. It's all very well for Mark Phillips to persue his career in the army, but his first duty must be to secure the throne and give the Queen her first grandchild so to take her mind off the Australian constitutional crisis.

I have no lunch and sit doing absolutely nothing at all. (Well,if you must know I've spent nearly two and a half hours filling in this diary properly).

Carole rings at 4.15 and guesses that I've bought her a locket straight away but when I say "Ah, but what sort of locket?" She replies immediately "a silver one". Dead right, she is, and I'll have to buy something else now for a surprise.

We meet at 8.30 and go to the Hare with John. Maria is at her piano teachers place playing, and so he's quite free and unattached tonight. We buy each other pernod and oranges and have a few lagers too. By 10.30 we are a bit popped up.

Haircut day for Carole on Saturday and she's worried sick by it. I tell her not to be daft. Vidal Sassoon won't make a complete bugger of it.

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Monday August 25, 1975

Holiday in England, N. Ireland & Wales. Back to the office. Ugh. The fact that it's Bank Holiday Monday makes it worse because the thought of everyone staying in bed until noon whilst I struggled across a deserted town was far from pleasant.

See Sarah and Kathleen and they both agree that I'm a tremendous colour. Work until 1pm and then Kathleen lets me go. I get the 55 bus with Sarah and arrive home at about 2 o'clock. The weather is still quite warm, but I don't sit out in it when I arrive home. I've had enough after 2 weeks in Majorca and 2 full weeks lying around in the sun.

Sue is watching a rotten film starring W.C. Fields, which is cronic. I devour beans on toast, and then see a Marx Brothers film 'Duck Soup' which is hilarious in parts.
Groucho should be knighted in the New Year's Honours list. If Charlie Chaplin can be (knighted), I fail to see why Groucho can't.

No much in the news whilst I've been away. Some nutter saw fit to dig up the Headingley cricket pitch in the middle of the Test Match, which seems a bit of a silly thing to do, and the historic event to beat all other historic events is the re-union of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. They're going to re-marry, and at the moment they're carrying on like a pair of 16 year-olds with the first pangs of love!

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Friday July 19, 1974

Nice day. Meet Denny and Chris in the Generation Bar at 12. Chris goes back to work half an hour later and Denny and I sit drinking until 1.30. Intend to get some clothes for John but whilst passing the Odeon Cinema we notice a Liz Taylor/Michael Caine film and go inside. "Zee and Co". Tremendous film. Finished at about 5.30. Not home till nearly 7. John goes quite insane about my doings in Leeds. "I thought you said you'd finish doing the gloss?" he yelled. Who does he think I am?

General Franco, the Spanish leader handed his powers to the Prince of Spain today due to his illness. I can see we shall have a new King of Spain within the coming week.

With Judith to Wikis after Hare and Hounds. Denny, bless her, refuses to speak to me because of my liaison with 'Miss Screw well'. J and I fall asleep on the sofa and she wakes up in a screaming fit at 5am!!

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Sunday December 30, 1973

1st after Christmas. Wake up at 7.30 and find myself on top of the bed feeling cold. Without much hesitation I climb into the bed where I sleep until 12.30. Feeling quite rough when I finally get up. The weather is cold, sharp, and sunny. Peter Mather laughs when he sees me staggering towards the bathroom. It isn't until my face is in cold water and I come round that I remember, with horror, that Christine W finished with John last night. The bust up will probably not be permanent. Andy and Linda S are back together again.

Denny, Pete, John and I clear up the mess with Chris whilst Andy watches tv. We then watch one of the Whicker in America series about plastic surgery.

John and me get a bus into Guiseley. Home for just after 1.30. Have a nice lunch. Then see the tv. 'Antony and Cleopatra' starring Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor - described as the 'most expensive flop ever' but I think it's quite good.

Bed at about midnight after having a few drinks with the family. Still no word from Sue Riley or the baby.

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Wednesday December 19, 1973

Saw June at the Benton Park Christmas dance. She didn't say much and seemed disinterested in anything I do or say. Love sick, that's my trouble. June looked lovely. Generally, the whole thing (the dance) fell through. People trying to be things which they aren't. David didn't say much. MM had been for a haircut.  

Lynn went to the Emmotts for the first time - and little Janet Roots managed to get a sherry out of me. John and I were wearing identical jumpers, and all the lower 6th girls had the usual fight on the topical question "who's gonna _____Mig Rhodes first". I now know why Pamela Barlow rang. She's a bloody sex maniac. Talk about throwing yourself at someone! Laura attended in her usual capacity as "Tart of the Year 1973". Ah well, if Liz Taylor and Richard Burton can get back together then June and I still have a chance. God, the thought of it makes my life a lot warmer. She's the only one to give me a purpose to live for. 

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Monday December 10, 1973

Abdication of King Edward VIII, 1936. Miss Went is away for two days and a relaxed atmosphere prevails at the YP. Little Janice is far too domineering in her attitude to me - I'll put her in her rightful place before very long.

Praise be to God in Heaven! It's happened. The Burtons are back together again. Poor Liz was wheeled out of hospital by a jubilant Richard, and the couple flew to Rome to spend Christmas with Sophia Loren. This really does go to show that true love always finds a way. Liz said she'd separated from Richard because 'we love each other too much'. Eh?

Poor Mark Phillips is in bed and not with Princess Anne it seems. The poor boy has gastro-entiritis. Must be all that South American food he's been getting. Poor chap.

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