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Thursday June 30, 1977

The last day of bleedin' June. What a stinker of a month we've had, eh? The most cloudy June since 1306 BC and the wettest since 1204 when Richard the Lionheart's armour went rusty. Honest.
Richard the Lionheart: rusty armour?

No evening on the town tonight. Was so busy at work today I had no time to phone Carole.

The fact that it is pay day makes no difference at all to my sorry financial plight. I discovered that I owed it all to Lynn, Mama or Mr Barclay.

Just watched television all evening. Felt shagged out. At one point I passed out on the settee serenaded by the revolting Max Bygraves.

Mum and Dad went out for a drink. I was in bed by 10.30pm.

-=-

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