Friday November 3, 1978

Dear God I feel just terrible. To quote Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman ~ "my eyes are like piss holes in the snow". Hideous, quite hideous.

Did little or no work and Sarah took me to Len's Bar at lunch in an attempt to revive me but it simply failed to work.

Didn't hear from Christine. I bet she feels the same.

At 5:30 Jacq and I went with Dave B to meet Lynn at Yeadon. We had every intention of going to see 'Grease'. At 6:30 after fish and chips we 'nipped' into the Clothiers 'just for a quick one' where we were joined by Sue and Pete, who put us off by telling us that the queue for the film at the Odeon is five miles long. We too readily believed them, and carried on drinking. It was a great relief for me. I can think of nothing worse than John Travolta's leather gear in glorious technicolour.

The six of us moved on the the Crown, and then the Drop. All quite pissed up. ______________________.

Pete says he's going to blackmail me over _________________________.

Jacq got a bus at about 11 and the others called in at Pine Tops to see Mum and Dad. Dave and I were hideously pissed, and this always niggles Mummy when she's stone cold sober. We squabbled slightly and I argued with Dad about the Labour party and nationalisation. David joined in the argument but nobody could understand what he was talking about.

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Friday October 20, 1978

Steve Sharp's leaving party this evening.

This afternoon Sarah, Carol J and I went to Parker's and then to Len's for a few lunchtime drinkies to get me in the right frame of mind for the festivities. The girls are refusing to go to Steve's orgy because the Eagle pub on North Street is something of a rough dive, they say. What does it matter?

At 6 o'clock John Mac took Alan Macgregor and I to the Eagle. Timothy Taylor's bitter was drained in vast quantities from the outset. I sat with Steve, Geoff Winter, Sue Tirbutt, Jill Armstrong, Fred (Manby) &c. I collected Jacq at 7:30 after fighting my way through the vast crowds in Leeds queueing to see Mr Revolta in 'Grease'. I am shocked that millions of apparently educated people should sink to such depths of incredible madness.

By 10:30 we were all quite pissed. At one point Steve used the back of my tie to write down a lengthy drinks order. Oh My God! It all looked very 'punk' anyway.

Jacq and I went with John MacM and a new lady YP reporter to Steve's place at Alwoodley where we drank ourselves stupid. I was violently sick on the manicured front lawn, and after a few gins I passed into a tranquil state of unconsciousness from which I didn't emerge until morn. In the meantime Jacq was mauled by Campbell Spray, and she sustained injuries to her left ankle on the dance floor.

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