The YP landed on me with a resounding crash. The whole thing is simply too horrific to discuss. Well, it was like this. I was minding my own business in the fashion that I usually mind my own business in, and quite by chance I found myself on Wellington Street, a grubby, protrusion smelling of alcohol, abutting the famous City Square. Then it happened. Yes, a large, grey, slime~covered building leapt out in my path and before I could struggle or make a dash for it I had been totally devoured. It was the Yorkshire Post.
Ode to the Yorkshire Post
I believe you are a newspaper,
Keith's Mum seems to think so anyway,
Myself I prefer the Daily Mail,
I don't know why.
E. Jarvis Thribb.
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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 ode. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ode. Show all posts
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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...
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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...
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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 ...