The first thing I did was go to the chemist and buy some brown hair dye. When I got back to the hotel Ron offered to play hairdresser and after a smoke he put the colour in for me and did a very professional job. The colour ended up being quite dark but was a hundred percent improvement.

He also had a chat about my "image", and did I realise how ridiculous I looked walking around in my long coat and beret. He then did a rather good pen sketch of me walking around Europe at 200 M.P.H. in the offending garments.

I received a fax from Neil Wright in Australia saying "Did my postcard get lost in the mail?" and that he's sold $700 worth of my paintings, which is nice to know. I also gave Jude a call and she'd just gone to bed. She did seem to be in good spirits. It left me feeling a bit strange.

We left earlier for Wembley but the traffic was still horrific and it was a long drive. I had some soup and bread when we got there and we did a line check. Spike is no longer with us. He got the sack last night. It seemed very cold to me after all we've been through. I liked the guy but he left without saying goodbye. What a cut throat business we're in.

We did the show and it went better than last night. It was the best show in London so far. We had a good sound with Bernie on foldback and Mick changed his guitar sound. It was a lot cleaner and funkier.

We came off and had dinner then partied hard for the next few hours. There was a bit of a feeding frenzy in the change room. I'd been feeling a bit low and figured what the hell but by the time we left I felt wired and stung out. The whole band visited the ironically named "hospitality room" before leaving and it was quite inhospitable.

We got back to the hotel and I paced the room (that gets tinier every day) for a few hours then watched TV and finally got to sleep.

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