Why on earth would anyone decide to bury Richard III in a car park? I know a thing or two about "Richard the thirds" and it's never even once crossed my mind to bury one of mine in a car park I can tell you. There's the obvious tarmac problem for a kick off, not to mention dodgy women drivers trying to reverse their Nissan Micra as if it was a 38 tonne lorry. Surely they'd be better off concentrating their search in some nearby bushes? And Leicester of all places. Jesus Christ, Fucking Leicester. I've been to Leicester and it's shit. Completely shit. On a shitness scale of 0-10 Leicester is easily a 12, maybe a 13 if it's raining. Although come to think of it maybe there's a clue in there. Maybe they've come across some ancient manuscript that says something like "Headeth off to the shittiest place in all the land, there thee will find a kingly mound, in the McDonalds grill order bay dig up the third, where thee will find nestling a Richard III." Stranger things have happened. Next week, archaeologists dig up KFC in Starbeck in search for Boadicea.
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.