_. Better day. A little man came this morning and erected a TV aerial to the chimney and now we are receiving a clear, and un-fuzzy picture. Watching News at 10 we could clearly make out every wrinkle of Alastair Burnet's face, and every layer of taffeta on the prime minister's gown. [Mrs T is with General Zia in Pakistan at the moment]. Oh yes, and speaking of Mrs Thatcher I still think she's the best thing to happen to us since Hereward the Wake. She's got my vote anyway.
Coming home on the bus yesterday [I forgot to mention this] I had to endure the sight of a gang of Social Democrats leaving St George's Hall. They all looked bloody shifty to me. They were all to a man wearing suede shoes, herringbone jackets and puffing on pipes burning St Bruno ready rubbed. Had I been the bus driver I might have been very tempted to mount the pavement and take them all out.
Home at 6. Lamb chops. Ally finds eating something of a labour. Sat afterwards watching 'Jaws'. Thanks to the new aerial we can clearly make out the shark.
To bed at 11 with Ovaltine. Reading the Times an advert caught my eye 'Play tennis with Bjorn Borg for £400 for three days in December'.
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