Sunday December 25, 1977

Christmas Day. Santa Claus and all that. Merry Christmas to you all! Up at approx. 10:00am to open my presents. The bulk of my gifts consist of underpants and socks. I don't care.

John, Maria and JPH came at 2 and stayed until 4. JPH was bewildered by all the fuss and wept towards the end. Poor soul. Gt-Auntie Annie and Gt-Uncle John Kirk came for ten minutes (visiting son Raymond on Southway). I gave them the photographs I took on Dec 14.

Helen Mirren.

We eventually dined in great style at 5:00pm. Feeling bloated some 90 minutes later, and whilst everyone else slept, I decided on the novel idea of gluing photographs in a new photo album. A strange Christmas pastime probably, but anything is better than the Moscow State Circus and Angela Rippon on the TV.

Julie Ege.

TR7

This evening I sat drinking shandy by the TV set. A couple of boring films later I retired to bed bearing my pile of items of male underwear. Ah well, you can't win 'em all, Michael. Perhaps next year I'll get the TR7 and a night out with Helen Mirren and Julie Ege. Merry Christmas!

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Saturday December 24, 1977

_.Got up this morning to assess my wounds. I'll probably need plastic surgery and by the look of things it will affect my fan club membership. Oh, it's terrible. I've buggered my hand too. How will I battle through my Christmas dinner?

Sarah: revolted by my injuries.

Before going downstairs I had to ask Susan where I had been and exactly how I had acquired my injuries. She told my coldly. Oh, I am a fool.

My apologies were accepted by Mum and Dad and he went off to Otley (Police Station) to deal with the swine, or at least find something out. I believe my assailant was only 16 years-old.

Sarah came over at 8 and we, the whole family, went to the Hare & Hounds. Sarah is quiet and I put it down to my injuries. Am I so disfigured that Sarah is revolted?

The atmosphere in the pub is not what I would call festive. In fact most people seem quite sombre. No doubt it's because old age is creeping up on the group and crushing the lustre of yuletide joy from our poor minds.

Sarah, pleading exhaustion, retired at 11:30. Back to Pine Tops with the whole family. Maria brought her Scottish cousin, Marian along too. But, possibly because of my condition, I just felt morose and dismal. Tired even. At 2:00am I stunned the revellers by announcing my retirement.

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Friday December 23, 1977

_.Roaring drunk all day with consequences nauseating and dire.Please do not read on if you are of a weak or delicate nature. At the YP we sank a bottle of gin before going over to the pub - the Central - and whilst having Christmas drinks in this ancient pub I am sorry to say my mind disintegrated. Everything became blurred and warped. I managed to get a bus at about 3 and at home I fell off a chair several times whilst attempting to stick balloons to the ceiling for my irate Mama.

From home I went with dear Dave L, Sue, Pete N, Chris, Pete M, Steve Hudson and a scattering of Pete N's pals to the Fox. I remember nothing. Evidently I was drinking Tequila and orange.

Junction, Otley.

I am told that Dave left for home at about 10 and we moved on to the Junction in Otley - of all places - where a breach of the Queen's peace occurred and possibly a case of Grievous Bodily Harm. Whilst making my exit from the said tavern I was, allegedly, set upon by one ANTONY KIRK, of Otley, who assaulted me in the face, my nose, mouth, &c. Supposedly I accosted his tart (she is from Otley and so she must be one), but dear Sue and Pete insist that on leaving the pub I did nothing to provoke an onslaught upon my person. The lad just landed one on me for no apparent reason.

My body was borne in great mourning to Peter (Nason's) where my wounds were dressed and a Mass was said. On my arrival home, it is said, Mama went hysterical and I sat drunk, quietly bleeding.

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Thursday December 22, 1977

_.Received two weeks pay, which is fatal. By Christmas Eve it will be sadly depleted. I went out and bought a couple of presents and intend purchasing no more. Blimey, I'm no Paul Getty. Why spend when it's just for spending sake?

David 's party is on for Dec 26, and John's on Dec 28, but other than this I don't think we're in for a riot.

Her Majesty with her first grandson.

Master Peter Mark Andrew Phillips was baptised today at Buckingham Palace. The poor soul going through life with such a pitiful name can find comfort in the knowledge that he is the oldest grandson of Her Most Illustrious Majesty our Sovereign Lady the Queen and it is unlikely that Master Phillips will ever endure the horrors of our state education system or experience the agonies of taking home £30 per week. Oh I'd change places with him and dip my head in that font any day.







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Wednesday December 21, 1977

CB: voluptuous as usual.

_.The week is dragging by nastily, as it always does leading up to Yuletide. What more can I say really? Not a lot. To tea at John and Maria's and was joined by CB.  Carole and Fogarty came later and we drank coffee and gossipped. It was my first visit to No 69 since June.  CB is voluptuous, as usual, and is in love again. She insists I'll see her over the Christmas period but I know Christmas and I know CB even better and when she has a man the rest of us don't stand a chance. But we do laugh all the same. ______. JPH is incredible. He's a pearl.

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Tuesday December 20, 1977

Prince of Wales: sworn of the Privy Council.

_.Phoned Jacqui to say thank you. She says she's coming from Dec 30 to Jan 3. I hope Mama will not be upset by this arrangement.

The Prince of Wales became a member of the Privy Council today. I have always assumed that he's been a PC since becoming 18 in 1966. Wrong again, Michael.



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Monday December 19, 1977

_.Rumour has it that Judith is living in sin with the manager of the Hare & Hounds and that she is now resident at the pub. What has become of the poor, demented landlady? ________.








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