Nice little walkies round the Valley Gardens yesterday, interrupted by me Dad wittering into his mobile phone all the way with me just keen to admire the natural beauty of the landscape and roll in some shit given half the chance. From what I could gather front-end tightness in London wheat (may closed a fiver over July last night) is down to a certain merchant being short cash against long futures and wanting to take delivery of the physical wheat. Which me Dad says ties in nicely with reports he's heard that they have been collecting ex-farm wheat on contract a month early pretty much all through the winter. The merchant involved? I couldn't quite catch it, it's a shame that nobody likes them though, just because their ear is in the wrong place. I'll send them one of my poohs in a jiffy bag, that'll cheer them up.
You couldn't make it up could you. I spent much of the weekend dozing on the sofa watching telly. Glastonbury was on, although sad to say there was no Snoop Dog, Bone Jovi or any other canine related artists. The big news seemed to be the lack of female headliners and now we know why as one scored a spectacular own goal. She missed her slot cos she was doing her hair. It takes ages she said. Why NOT start doing your hair well before your show time. Aaagh no where's my handbag I've left it in the car, I've got to back to fetch it.