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...
--==--
The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
Showing posts with label recession. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recession. Show all posts
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Monday June 10, 1985
Waltergarth Phil the Greek is 64 today. We left Samuel with his grandad and went to Skipton for an hour so. Market Day. Returned for lunch...
-
Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...
-
Moorhouse Inn Snow has fallen through the night and the moor looks like Gstaad today. Ally took Samuel out to the bank and the market at 9....