Hey guys, this is kind of weird but I was shopping in Silverlake at this supremely chill record store because I decided I’m only going to listen to stuff on vinyl now (seriously, it just sounds better) and came across a small leather bound book. I checked it out. It was Ringo Starr’s diary from his days in The Beatles. Very obscure. There must only be like, 5 copies of it max in the entire United States. Maybe a couple more in Liverpool I’m guessing, I’m gonna have to look into that.
Anyway, I didn’t want to be an asshole and keep this amazing find all to myself, so I transcribed a couple choice entries which I decided I’d share with you here…
August 18, 1968
I’ve just about had it with Paul. If we have to play one more song that’s about him I might just really quit this time. All of his songs are about himself! It’s just selfish. And now he’s gone and done it again. He’s been talking for weeks about how he wants to fuck Linda on the side of the road after he saw some monkeys doing it on the road. He’s so pretentious. We get it Paul, you connected with India and now you read meaning into everything because you’re sooo spiritual. Ugh, the worst! Maybe monkeys fucking on the side of the road are just about monkeys fucking on the side of the road, why does he have to make everything about himself??? I just can’t even understand it anymore. He made monkeys fucking on the side of the road about him fucking Linda on the side of the road and now he wrote a fucking song about it. You know what, I hope they do fuck on the side of the road and then get run over by a bloody car.
September 10, 1968
Had a weird dream last night that I can’t really tell anyone about, so I will tell you, diary. Paul and I were in the recording studio… well, it didn’t look at all like the recording studio but for some reason I knew that was where we were. At first it was pretty normal, just a couple of the usual recurring acid flashbacks… that one goofy talking elephant was there. Boy is he a hoot. But then after he left Paul looked me in the eyes, caressed my face and said, “everything is going to be alright, Ringo.” and then he kissed me. His lips were really soft, but I woke up feeling kind of weird about it. No idea what it could mean.
October 1, 1968
I’ve really just had it with this White Album. It’s total bullshit. Revolution 9 is just the worst. I sort of get the feeling they just deliberately wrote it so there’d be a song that didn’t require any drums. It’s not even a song. It’s just noise. I told them it wasn’t a good idea. Did they care? No, of course not. I started to think afterward maybe I should have told them that I loved the idea of it, maybe then they would have not put the song on the album just to spite me. At least then I wouldn’t have to be associated with a band that put that crap out in the world. They think they’re so edgy and innovative. I just want to play the drums, when did it stop being about the music???
October 31, 1968
The boys are going to Elton John’s Halloween party. They think I should come as “The Walrus”. I personally wanted to go as a train conductor. None of them ever care about what I want to do. They don’t even treat me like a person, I’m just their novelty accessory. John is going to go as Jesus. He’s such an asshole. Seriously thinking about just staying in and watching the telly. I’d watch a horror movie but those scare me.
January 18, 1969
Sad today. Oh well.
April 15, 1969
I just had the best idea for a song ever. The boys really better let me do it. I never get to write any of the songs! Come on, just this one, please! It’s a beautiful song about octopuses. I think octopuses are the best. I was on Peter Seller’s boat not too long ago and I remember I ordered the fish and chips. Well, they gave me squid instead. It was okay though, rubbery but tastes like chicken. Then the boat captain told me all about octopuses. He said that they travel along the sea bed picking up stones and shiny objects with which to build gardens. I’d like to be under the sea in an octopuses garden! I think if they let me do it it’ll turn out really great, maybe it’ll even be remembered as the best Beatles song ever! Boy I hope so. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I think maybe I could even sing on this one. I’ve been singing a little in the shower lately. I don’t want to tell anyone in case they make fun of me, but my voice isn’t bad… definitely better than John’s. Oh well, I’m pretty excited about this song about octopuses anyway. I hope it works out.