I know it's naughty of me, but it's now a week since I laid pen on this diary, and even me, the genius that I am, cannot possibly recall totally what actually occurred on June 24, 1975. However, you will, no doubt, be interested to know that Sarah, Mrs Johnson and I are 'doing Town Street' on Friday. When I say 'doing Town Street' I really mean to say 'doing a pub crawl down Town Street', which means exactly the same thing, but the former covers up a good deal of what actually is going on, if you follow my meaning. Oh, shut up, Michael.
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Moorhouse Inn I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to...
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I have just been summoned to thee bathroom by Susie who is sitting in a hot bath in complete darkness. "Michael, the bulb's just go...
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