20200318

Tuesday September 25, 1979

_. John's 23rd birthday. Sat by the record player all day listening to my favourite tunes. Ally, Sue and Peter dropped in for lunch and I made the bacon sandwiches. God, it was good to see a few faces. It's no wonder that so many housewives turn to the bottle. Solitary confinement in the home must surely drive them over the top. Housework must only take a couple of hours. What do they do after that? Poor buggers. The nauseating DJs on Radio One don't help either.

To the YP at 5 and spent the evening with Gilberto - our man from Chile. No news. Everything quite dead. Home by taxi at 12. The driver had little to say. I thought we might become airborne as he had his foot flat down on the accelerator.

Ate like a horse and took up Adolf Hitler.

-=-

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