The Winterfood Diaries

The Winterfood Diaries

Thursday, 31 December 1987

New Year's Eve 1987


NEW YEAR’S EVE…

ASHTON STREET!

1.55am.

 

My No.1: ‘Deep Water’ – Strawberry Switchblade



 

The last day of 1987 begins.

 

Today, Flash and I went to Leeds and bought some stuff.  I got some ‘snakeskin’ trousers, a black shirt with lace frills and a tree of life necklace thing.  ACE, eh?  Better than the shaight I bought last year.

 

 

So.  NOO-RETCH FO’T’ NEW YEAR, eh?

 

Erm.  Oh well.

 

WE WILL HAVE A LAUGH

 

So.  See you later.

 

A HAPPY

                     NEW

YEAR

 

Later:

 

‘Of Runes And Men’ – Death In June



 

Flash writes:

 

Hiya Chief!

 

This is Flash Morbius and I should like to say that 1987 has been a bit of a bad old stick for me and I haven’t really enjoyed every second, but really it’s a good old lad, and so long as you know then you can’t say fairer, can you?

 

No, of course not.

 

Now, we have promised ourselves, and I say once again promised, that 1988 will be the best year for anyone who wants it that way, and we’ll kick it off at about 0000 hours tomorrow morning. 

 

Well, nitey-nite now, for it’s very past your bedtime and by rights you should be asleep.

                               

Love,

Flash.

xxx

 

Later:

11.35am.

At Ashton Street still. 

 

Ready to be off, later on.

 

‘Knocking On Heaven’s Door (live)’ – The Sisters Of Mercy



 

So. 

 

FUCK MY BAG’S HEAVY!!!

 

BoR-LoX

 

Happy … New Year?

We hope so.

 

So WE

DO SOME

TAPiNG

AND

ViSiT GRAN

AND GO!

 

Later:

 

Dear Girls,

 

Hello.  My name is Jez and my friend is Morbius (he’ll be dropping this letter on you, I suppose).  What we’d like to say is that we’re bored and want someone to talk to.  So will you come and sit with us?  It’s not as if you’ve got to marry us, or anything like that, but we’re so fed up.  Well?  Yes or no?  Send us a letter back.  We’re somewhere on the train.  You’ll see us (excuse the writing.  I’m having a difficult time with this train’s movement…).

 

RSVP, if you wish,

If not, we’ll no longer bother you.

 

Jez x

Morbius xxx

 

Later:

A bit later.

 

A girl writes:

 

Thanks for the invite, but we get off in a few minutes.

Justine + Jasmine

 

Later:

A bit laterer.

 

‘Punishment Initiation’ – Death In June



 

Dearest Diary,

 

I am on the train to Peterboro’ with MORBIUS It’s about 4.30ish.

 

On the train, we had spied two ‘alternative’ girls, so Flash delivered the letter above.

 

(Another Blackpool situation…)

 

Oh well.  They did get off at the next stop, so we gave ‘em our addresses.  Wonder if they’ll wraight?

 

Flash writes:

 

Yes, I wonder that too.  They seemed pretty nice, so hopefully they will write.  Never mind if they don’t!  Life is full of it.

 

Well, we’re on the train and soon we will be THERE.  Hi-ho, and off we go, for a spectaclier night in Norfolk. Yes.

 

Later:

Later on.

6.30ish pm

 

AH WUNT DARE.

 

AH DOH!!!

 

Would you dare be the BTC?  Oh gay!

 

Well, the train was late!  It got into Peterboro’ at 5.35ish.  When we got to the bus station, we had just missed our bus to Norwich.  The next bus is at 8.35pm. 

 

YAH DOH!!

 

WE SHALL

BE IN NOO-RETCH

     AT 11.00PM!

 

OH  DOOOOOO

 

Flash writes:

Sorry I’m shit but I can’t write with these gloves on.  Anyway, we’ve just discovered once again that

LIFE IS FUCKING

ARSEHOLES!

 

Bastard

bus station!

 

I hate the Peterboro council!

 

Later:

Approx 9.15pm.

 

Just before the bus for Noo-retch was due to arrive, we discovered something that had hitherto escaped our attention: the 8.35pm bus, in fact, would not go all the way to NOO-retch and would stop, instead, halfway!

 

So, after almost 3 hours standing freezing with nothing to do (because everywhere is shut) in a shit bus station in Peterboro’, we decided to do what we should o’ done in’t’ first place (but didn’t cos we wanted to save money) –

CATCH A TRAIN!

 

So, here we are on the train.  We’re still going to get there for 11pm, 1987!

 

BUUUT… it cost us 7 gay pound 60!!

EACH!!!

so there…

 

It could only happen to us.

 

1987’s been a shitter.

 

Later:

 

Flash writes:

V.LATE

 

RITCHERD IS CRAP. 

 

HE BEST GET BACK SOON OR HE IS NO LONGER MY FRIEND.

 

Yours,

Jeff D. Prest

 xXx

 

Later:

 

‘Love Letters’ – Marc Almond



 

We arrived in Norwich at about 10.30pm.  We were about 3 hours behind our schedule.

 

Once there, we took a stroll to The Bell and just outside, we had a chat with Johnny Gunn.  The pub was absolutely packed and, for most of the night, Flash and I were undecided whether to visit The Red Lion or not.  As it was, we didn’t.

 

Once inside The Bell, Flash went to the bar, whilst I grabbed a corner of a seat and chatted, vaguely, to Bugs.  The place was absolutely fat with bodies.  Heat.  Sweat.  Beer.  Plastic tumblers covering the floor.  It was also darker than usual.  I felt great about it all, which was the good thing.  I felt pretty good about 1988 being on its way.

 

Sitting in an alcove opposite me was an old, vague Bell acquaintance named Alice, who has to be one of the greatest visions of physical beauty I’ve ever seen in my life.  I just had to sit and stare at her gorgeous black, crimped hair, her wide, pale cheeks, her sexy black dress that showed me the curves of her hips and breasts and belly… Then a bloke dressed as Rupert the Bear began flattering my hair.  Saying it was great, etc.  I didn’t see Alice again after that.

 

Naomi eventually came in and, separating me from Flash, took me outside, where we chatted, embraced and kissed.  But nothing ‘too strong’.  We were mates again.

 

So it was – in The Bell with such luminaries as Naomi, Pot Noodle and a lot of others – that we saw in the New Year.

 



 

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Next time: ‘1988…’

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