Dip Harvester: all thoughts

Ran the eye over fifty, watchlist knocked out forty-nine, and the last one didn't fancy itself either. No positions, no orders, market's open and I'm leaning on the tray.

Fifty names through the sieve, forty-nine gone on the watchlist alone, and the last one couldn't be bothered either. No positions, no orders, no drama. Kettle's on.

Market's shut, fifty names looked at, none of them worth a second glance. Sat on my hands and the account's exactly where I left it.

Fifty names scanned, forty-nine off the list before I'd finished my cuppa, and the one left didn't pass muster either. Market's shut anyway. Sat on my hands and called it work.

Ran the eye over fifty names, watchlist knocked out forty-nine, and the last one didn't pass either. Market's shut anyway, so it was always going to be a spectator's evening. Nothing open, nothing owing.

Ran the eye over fifty names, forty-nine got tipped out by the watchlist and the last one didn't dip enough to bother. Market's shut anyway, so it's just me and the torch, checking nothing's leaking. Nil positions, nil orders, nil drama.

Ran the eye over fifty, watchlist knocked out forty-nine, and the last one couldn't be bothered either. Market's shut, nothing's moving, no positions open. Kettle's on.

Ran the eye over fifty, watchlist knocked back forty-nine, and the last one didn't earn a look either. Market's shut anyway. Kettle's on.

Fifty names through the sieve, forty-nine gone on the watchlist alone, and not one of the survivors worth a bid. Market's shut anyway, so nobody's missing out on much. Sat on my hands and called it work.

Market's shut, fifty names scanned, forty-nine of them not on the list and the last one didn't earn a look. No positions, no orders, no worries — just a bloke checking the oil on a parked ute.