Monday December 17, 1973

Princess Anne and Mark Phillips return to desolate Britain. 

Chaos reigns in all places. Mr Barber announced his Christmas budget in the Commons this afternoon. A typical 'election type' budget, which gets only at the rich. Obviously, Mr Heath is planning an early general election. Some sources are going so far as to suggest January 24! My resources as a voter may be required sooner than I imagined. 

 An Aide-de-Camp to the Queen has been injured by a letter bomb in London this morning. Brigadier O'Cock is his name. It goes to show that this can easily happen to VIPs. The Queen herself is unaffected by letter bombs. Her mail will be thoroughly checked before it is placed before her and if it isn't, Brig O'Cock is a good example of what might happen. The tv today closes down at 10.30. I go to bed at 10 o'clock to avoid the humiliation of seeing everything black-out at such an early hour. --==--

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...

--==--