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Monday October 1, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

The Angel & White Horse.
Good old October is here. Last year we were at the Why Not and I think we had just experienced our first riot. What an experience. I went down and phoned Rob (Piper) to get a lift to the brewery. It's to attend a briefing of the managers after last Wednesday's liaison committee meeting. He came here at 5 and I said my fond farewells to my two precious slugs. We went to the Duncan pub to collect the poor little manager of that den of iniquity. The pub, in Duncan St, Leeds, takes £4,500 a week and the manager has 150 staff hours. At Taddy we sat in the green room, appropriately as we were all like cabbages. We listened to Colin Black, Donna (Lea) and David Tyne. It was just a formality of them reading minutes and asking us for any comments. Later, we fell into the Angel and White Horse. _____ was crawling around Mrs Lea like a sex starved Doberman Pinscher. Rob & Kath dropped the Duncan manager and I and went for dinner and so we were left with CW, who really resents his new baby for taking away his independence, &c. Such a selfish shit. I had too much Old Brewery Bitter and felt canned. Ally phoned to say the lights in the bar at home had fused, but that an electrician was on the way. Wills dropped me at home at 9 and I found the place looking like a fairy grotto, lit by emergency lights. I didn't go behind the bar but stood 'entertaining' the customers. For some reason old Harold thinks I am a first cousin of the Archbishop of Canterbury. Bed late after recounting the evenings events to Ally.

-=-

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