The ​Prostrate Years (Adrian Mole 8.) 7 csillagozás

My mother stuck up for my father by saying, „No, Brett, George was always fair. He neglected all of his children equally.”

Thursday 9th August

When people start to smoke a fag right down to the filter, you know the country's in financial trouble.

Thursday 9th August

When I got to the shop, Hitesh told me that Bernard had been gone for two hours on a „book-buying expedition”. […]
When Bernard came back, I asked him what he bought.
He said, "Nothing, cocker. They were disgusting.
„Pornography?” I asked.
„No,” he said, „worse. Danielle Steel.”

Tuesday 6th November

My father thumped me on the arm from his wheelchair. “I’d dig the hole myself if God hadn’t given me a stroke.”
“It wasn’t God, George,” said my mother, curling her lip. “It was pork scratchings and forty fags a day.”

An owl hooted in the sycamore tree opposite, reminding me that unless I went home and got some sleep I would be good for nothing the next day. I said goodnight to Pandora and added, “I will always love you.”
Pandora was silent for a long time, then said, “Was that an owl I heard?”
I said yes and she disconnected the call.

Although I was annoyed that the focus of the conversation had veered away from me yet again, I asked, “So when are you getting married?”
He said, “I don’t know. I haven’t found the right girl yet. I’m looking for a stunningly beautiful, rich and independent woman, who isn’t a feminist.”
I said, “I think you’ll find that they are thin on the ground.”
He said, quite nastily, “Do you think I don’t know that? It’s the reason I’m not planning my wedding in the immediate future.”

Monday 4th June
Am I turning into one of those middle-aged men who think the country has gone to the dogs and that there has been no decent music since Abba?

Tuesday 5th June
Diary, I've been thinking about yesterday's entry and I am a little disturbed to find that I think the country has gone to the dogs and that there is nobody to beat Abba.

11. oldal - Monday 4th June

'Here lies Arthur Goodchild, diligent servant of the Lord, died aged sixteen, 23rd December, 1908.'
I said, 'Sixteen, that's so sad.'
She said, 'Where is Arthur Goodchild?'
I said, albeit a little reluctantly, 'He's under the ground.' She said, 'Does his mummy miss him?'
I said 'Oh yes, a lot.'
Gracie said, 'Well, she should have dug him up, then.'

293. oldal - Sunday 2nd December

When I got into the car, I asked my mother what she knew about Martha.
'She's got grown-up children,' she said, 'and her husband was killed in an avalanche.'
'Unfortunate,' I said.
'Yes, but it's a classy way to die, isn't it?'
I said, 'It depends which ski resort he was killed in. Some of them are simply a sub-zero Blackpool.'

376. oldal - Thursday 10th April