A hot, stinking day. I felt revoltingly ill and close to death. At 12 we went with Trixie and Pete S to the Five Bells at East Finchley where I performed my 'dead man lying on the floor' routine for anyone who cared to watch. They were all sinking pints of beer like Billy Ho (sic) but all I could do was moan and grovel about in the deep grass with my clammy fingers wrapped feebly round a tomato juice. ________. Trixie Holroyd however is just perfection itself _____.
Another party at Trixie's tonight ~ a dumping ground for homosexuals and Polish refugees with wealthy wives, and women wearing pink pullovers adorned with white beads and with faces that go numb after only two gin & tonics. All called Jack, Beryl, Dick and Celia. The food, chatter, booze and general atmosphere was a delight. Slept in the state bed.
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The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
Showing posts with label five bells. Show all posts
Showing posts with label five bells. Show all posts
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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...
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5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford Samuel has a hairy back and shoulders, you know. I have to record these things because in ten years ...
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3rd Sunday after Epiphany 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford Baby slept until 6am which is amazing. Ally however woke at three and then...