Showing posts with label pontins. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pontins. Show all posts

20120514

Wednesday April 13, 1977

To be honest with you I fully intended sitting by my fireside tonight with a good book and a mug of cocoa, but circumstances changed. CB rang at 6.30 feeling miserable and saying she has something of interest to tell me. I ask he "what?" and she responds "Oh, I'll tell you tonight at half past eight in the Hare". Bang went my cosy, domestic family evening by a warm telly.

CB: Pontins bound
Mum gave me a lift down to the Hare at 8.15. Judith is propping up a gin and tonic. Oh God, both Judith and CB in one evening. Talk about God, religion, ghosts, our reason for living - all very seriously. Judith believes in nothing at all, and when CB comes in she's like Judith and says only the weak need to believe in anything. Crap, I say. CB says she's resigned from Mothercare and is considering moving to Bournemouth to work at Pontins (holiday camp). Arrghh. She looks pale and drinks too much and then disappears to Oakwood Hall with a mysterious character at 10.30 saying "thanks Mig, and thanks for trying to cheer me up". Bye Bye Darling. Do you know I worship that girl? I'm so glad she didn't go out with Chris last Wednesday. I hate to see her looking bored.

Judith:  joint novel?
Judith and I were joined by Tony at 10pm. He takes us back to Bedside Manor. I was a bit pissed having supped lager and even Pernod in the Hare. At Judith's we discuss writing a novel jointly and have a glass of nauseating Noilly (Prat). Whilst discussing our novel we try to tip the Noilly back into its bottle and then start on the real hard stuff - yer actual McCoy. Me whisky and Judith gin. Pissed up for sure by 2am. Slumped on a rug reading a book about the Goons and the Concordance to Shakespeare. Judith points out that whenever we get together we end up on the floor surrounded by empty bottles. She's so right. Stagger out into the rain at 3am and borrow Judith's Papa's umberella. Get home and banging around I waken Mum. She moans about "coming in at this hour when you're working" &c. Good old Mama. I think the world of her.






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Monday April 30, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn Another warm one. At 2 in walked (Peter) Lazenby and Tony Harney (they had seen Michael Brown's poster on the back wall a...