New Years Eve, 1964

This short blog is not about the bank fraud directly, it is about my so called private life. This is just to show you that the mid sixtys were wild times. I was turning into Julius Ceasar again. The New Year party at the Checkpoint, Ewloe. By Roman command of Cleo herself. This time her husband, John, was also in our group. He was dressed in a bit of sackcloth and covered in some sort of expensive gravy browning. Everyone there knew Monica, several asked was I Mark Anthony, to which she said no, he's Ceasar. Well ---- who or what is John? Oh. he's just a slave!!! Some husbands are long suffering. It wasent a good night, we did'nt win first prize. I don't remember if anyone did. but it put Cleo in a bad mood. Then John came to us and said to me "Your Wife's on the phone AND SHE IS LIVID. She said if I did'nt get back to Rhyl sharpish she would be off to Ewlow with a shotgun--or words to that effect." So. exit stage left Julius Ceasar. When I got back home there was a babysitter inside, no Wife, she had gone to a party. She wasent one to stay at home moping because I was'ent there, if there was anything going on she was first in the queue. So. I sent the babysitter home. Later my Wife returned and set about ripping my roman toga, crown etc off me and tearing, smashing them up. Oh dear. And tomorrow its back into the cauldron of Barclays Bank.