Excitement at work this morning. As ever, I was going through the Court Circular quenching my daily thirst for knowing what Her Majesty has been up to, and to my great surprise I see that the Duchess of Kent is to visit the Yorkshire Post on November 25. I know that over the years I have said horrible, unforgivable things about Yorkshire's own Royal duchess, but I can assure you that I've out-grown this childish phase now. The duchess does a brilliant job, and I must state categorically that the stories I wrote about her were nothing more than figments of my imagination. My vendetta against the House of Kent is over.
To Leeds in a thunderstorm with John at 7.30 and we meet about six lads in a despicable pub called the 'Tam O' Shanter' or something. After winding our way up the Headrow we end up in Cinderella's in something of a dislocated, drunken fashion. Raymond ends up grovelling on the floor, and Dave, the groom-to-be, is with a sizeable wench in a red dress. If his intended looks anything like that object I sincerely feel for him in his last week of freedom. John and I get a taxi from Cinderella's at 2am, and the thing cost £3.30. Split between the two of us it wasn't all that tragic. Slept soundly after devouring a sandwich.
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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 tam 'o shanter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tam 'o shanter. Show all posts
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Monday October 14, 1985
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds Columbus Day, USA - Thanksgiving Day Canada Old Red Lion. A very silly day. I climbed out of bed very early leaving my...

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Moorhouse Inn I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to...
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I have just been summoned to thee bathroom by Susie who is sitting in a hot bath in complete darkness. "Michael, the bulb's just go...