Oh bugger the old English handwriting today. I feel absolutely revolting. Nevertheless, I crawled out of bed and attempted to make an effort at the YP, but by 11:30am I was dead. In fact, at that fateful hour I was compelled to enter the lavatories of the Yorkshire Post and did wretchedly vomit forth. It was ghastly. At 12 I 'signed off' for the day and returned homeward. The omnibus bearing my pale corpse to Guiseley was within seconds of inspecting the remainder of the contents of the above mentioned stomach.
At home the situation is cold to say the least. Mama and Papa are still considering closing their respective diplomatic delegations and to me it seems that nothing but an out and out war is inevitable. For the remainder of the day I sat ~ quiet as a mouse ~ armed with a gas mask and copy of the New English Bible. Oh, it's all very sad. But this is what marriage is all about I do suppose. I expect Mr & Mrs Thatcher (Conservative) often fall out in similar circumstances. Goodnight.
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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 war. Show all posts
Showing posts with label war. Show all posts
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Friday May 18, 1984
Moorhouse Inn 'Big Mick' the pot bellied darts player with Hells Angel tendencies went to bed last night and died. His wife regular...
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5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford Samuel has a hairy back and shoulders, you know. I have to record these things because in ten years ...
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3rd Sunday after Epiphany 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford Baby slept until 6am which is amazing. Ally however woke at three and then...