Wednesday August 17, 1977

Mr Presley is all over the newspapers this morning. I think that they are making too much of his death. Granted he was a singer, and one of the first 'rock and roll' stars, but why go over the top?

I am looking forward with some relish to the London-Bognor Regis excursion at the weekend. Work is something I could do without at the moment. It's all so bloody boring, you know. How are things with you? I expect they keep you 21st century wallahs busy, eh? For years they have promised more leisure time for the masses, with a three day week and all that, but as time goes by I find my leisure time doing quite the opposite - it's shrinking. More and more work seems to be the thing. What's the chance of spending four days each week on a yacht on the Thames? It's about as possible as my chances of becoming President of the United States of America. Have you read the novel "1984"? Well, I hope you aren't all living like that in your world because if so you won't be reading this now.




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Thursday November 15, 1973

With the wedding of the year over, what do we have left to live for? No coal. No electricity. No gas. No heating. No June. No fuel. No cars. No turkeys. No meat. No bread. No unmarried princesses, and sexy with it. No oil. No lights. No fairies. No 18th century mahogany chamber pot covers (£75 from any mahogany chamber pot stockist). No bacon, sausages, or canned tomatoes. No electric tooth brushes, etc. Britain will come to a grinding halt by next week. And what's more, statistics just out show that by 1984 Britain will be polluted beneath a blanket of 800m back dated copies of 'The Guardian'. The roads, fields, sewers, and woodland areas of rural Britain will be buried beneath an 18ft rotting heap of Guardians - not including the colour supplements. The thought is quite nauseating really. But Anne and Mark won't be bothered. Nobody reads the Guardian in the Caribbean...

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