A dinner ladies tale

OK, here it is. You guys (you know who we’re talking about Milky & HHJJ) just don’t let up do you? One would think that with shopping, Breakfast, lunch, dinner, shopping, load out sarnies, dressing rooms, shopping, serving, hot bloody toddies, poached eggs, scrambled eggs, fried eggs - no boiled (yet!), extra beer, extra wine, lo calorie, no fat we know you eat the chocolate boys, freezing cold showers, load outs in the snow (well slight exaggeration but it was 2? C in Brixton), more shopping, listening to stories of sexual conquests, making lemsips, cups of tea, coffee, wiping bums, psychiatric guidance, dancing at the grooviest disco in town in the back lounge and more shopping, that writing a diary entry would be our first priority. Suppose H and myself could have done it in Brighton as we had to be totally packed up and out by 19.30, but hey we decided to jump into the love bug and high tail it to the bright lights of the big city. Did I say we were wrapped up snugly in our duvets just as the boys were striding onstage for “It’s Over”. Wish we’d been there........................

K & H :-)

More Crew