Poetry night

There will be a poetry night at the premises of merchant bank Dodger Coombes next Friday. If you're in the Canary Wharf area and you fancy yourself as a bit of a bard, why not pop in and show everyone what you're made of?

Last month David Pitt won a case of champagne for his beautiful poem The ballad of Big Herb the money king. Runner-up was Tatum Jones with No one loves you when you're overdrawn.

Organizer Tom Wilson reckons, 'Our poetry nights are getting bigger all the time. Bankers love poetry almost as much as they love money.' So, get writing now!

New college for budding financial shamans

A new college for budding financial shamans has just opened near Bank tube station in the City. At the Chaos College of Finance students will be taught the art of contacting the spirit world for financial gain. Founder Arthur Simmons says, 'I believe there is a real need for something like this. It will give traders and analysts the edge they need in increasingly competitive times.'

Personally, I am a bit sceptical. Can this sort of thing really be taught in a college? I developed my skills over a number of years - years where I was wandering in the desert, staring at the moon, chanting like a madman. I lived in a cave, for Christ's sake. Well, each to their own. If you've got money to burn, go ahead and attend this college, but don't blame me if it doesn't work out.

Horoscopes

Pisces: There's an old hatstand in your house worth hundreds of pounds.

Aries: People like you shouldn't have anything to do with money. Sorry, but I'm not going to lie to you.

Taurus: A new love drives up to you in a red Ferrari. As if.

Gemini: This is a very prosperous time for you. Some people believe you would do anything for money. They're not wrong.

Cancer: A rich aunt is going to leave you a lot of money in her will. But you'll probably waste most of it, knowing you.

Leo: Make as much money as you can today. I wouldn't read your horoscope tomorrow if I were you.

Virgo: I know what you're planning, and all I can say is - best of luck. You're going to need it.

Libra: Today is the day to start making a fortune breeding goldfish. Just like you've always wanted to.

Scorpio: There's an old hatstand in your house worth hundreds of pounds.

Sagittarius: You may not get what you want over the next few days, but you'll certainly get something you don't need.

Capricorn: You will be so successful today. People of other star signs will be overcome with jealousy and beat the crap out of you.

Aquarius: Do you know any Capricorns? Maybe they'll give you a handout.

Scarecrow World

Scarecrow World PLC made the shock announcement yesterday that it would be moving production to China. CEO Bobby Straw said that it was a tough decision to make, but that it was absolutely necessary for the future survival of the company.

Workers at the factory in Somerset were clearly angry, and they questioned the reason for the move. There is a rumour going around that a significant number of scarecrows are coming alive at night and running amok in the factory, and that this is giving shareholders the jitters. When confronted with the rumour Mr Straw dismissed it as hysterical nonsense and said that production was moving to China solely to keep costs down.

Analysts say Scarecrow World is certainly a company to watch. 'Farmers don't really make their own scarecrows these days. More and more they are coming to rely on manufacturers such as Scarecrow World, and this company is the biggest player in the market right now,' said Susan Flint from Bad Moon Investments.

Edmund Rawlings

Obviously, there are very many different ways to make money, and we must all do what we are able to. Some of us drive racing cars on a professional basis. Some of us are mere office clerks. Edmund Rawlings had a particular talent for attracting the ghosts of dead stockbrokers. And that's how he made his fortune. These merchants would come to him in the early hours while he was still asleep, and they would enter him. This outrageous act would invariably wake him up and he would find himself completely paralysed. He could not open his eyes, or even open his mouth to hurl abuse at the ghostly invaders. However, he could use his mind to communicate with them, and that is what he did on numerous occasions.

Fortunately, these stockbrokers of the night were not hellish demons but actually rather friendly chaps who only wanted to help him. It was well known on the other side that Edmund was useless in most areas of life. He could only just about dress himself. The dead stockbrokers took pity on him. Over a period of roughly seven years they were to give him invaluable advice on investing in the stock market. Edmund became a multimillionaire, and his spirit friends - their work done - moved on to pastures new.

Basically, anyone can get rich. Edmund was a moron.