_. Up at 8:30 and out before any of the bars had opened. Something of a 'first' for me. I felt ghastly from the booze and cigarettes and could not have stayed in bed a minute longer.
Went to the cheapest bar in San Antonio - Los Gatos. Met up with a crowd of drunken Glaswegians, vomiting in the streets after an excess of Herbas. Saw Ian Wallace, the Coventry City and Scottish international footballer. He was pink and pissed, and on the arm of a revolting tart. Why do footballers always marry at 19, and to some ghastly painted whore? Evidently, Wallace has been to Argentina and made a dreadful mess of everything.
Scotland 0, Ibiza 36.
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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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Saturday September 7, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Ally was in a collapsed state all day and did her 'Sleeping Beauty' routine on me. Poor Samuel was motherless. A happ...

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Moorhouse Inn 2nd Sunday in Lent with dear Phyllis. Drizzle. Up for a full-English. Samuel is much better behaved without the influence of ...
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Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...
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