_. Packed up my troubles in my old kit bag, and smiled, smiled, smiled. Well, not quite. In fact I loathe preparing to go away and despise traveling and all the inconvenience attached to it, and do not enjoy a holiday one bit until I'm sitting in the hotel bar with a full glass. Suit cases are hideous objects. In fact, I'm looking at one right now. Red it is.
Spoke to Dave G in Stockport and we joked about the recent violence in Bournemouth. I said I'm going to push a few old girls off the pier and into the sea ~ bath chairs and crutches too. But Bournemouth so conjures up a vision of red geraniums set out in regimented gardens, cluttered with elderly ladies with blue rinses, staggering around the sea front clutching onto one another. I see elderly, long retired colonels, with yellow moustaches, and wilting spats. In fact, I picture nothing young or youthful at all. The arrival of ten lads from the north of England will send a gust of cold air up the crinolines of many a dowager duchess, as they cough and wheeze themselves from the latest Des O'Connor show to the garden of remembrance. Goodnight. Lights out at 1:23am.
Spike Milligan was good tonight.
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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 ...
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Monday October 14, 1985
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds Columbus Day, USA - Thanksgiving Day Canada Old Red Lion. A very silly day. I climbed out of bed very early leaving my...

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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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