Once again accosted by the Bichon Frisé nymphettes Ella and Maisie in the Valley Gardens this morning. What is a boy to do? Like I've said before what can you do when these young things with their bits in all the right places are literally throwing themselves at you? Once Ella gets going trying to stop her is like attempting to put toothpaste back in the tube, you know what I'm saying. Hence my empathy with poor old Ryan Jiggety Jig Giggs. I have to say that the last person in the world you would expect to kiss and tell would be a low IQ fame-hungry ex-Big Brother contestant and former Nuts Magazine topless model. Pooh count, just the one, but what a whopper. Reminded me of a Mr Whippy ice cream it did, except without the nuts. And a different colour obviously.
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.