DOG names continued.
Bert Peattie in Kirkcaldy tells us there was a local charity, jocularly named the Amalgamated Society of Spongers, Scroungers and Kindred Trades, which raised money for guide dogs, and one grateful owner even called her dog Asskit after the initials of the society.
She later told them she was stopped in a shop and asked the dog's name. She replied "Asskit" and moments later heard a voice now below her waist level saying: "What's your name?"
THE news story about the bull escaping from Edinburgh Zoo reminds John Sword at Glasgow's meat market of a bull escape there when it was eventually cornered in the back-court of a Gallowgate tenement.
After the animal was safely secured, a wee wummin went up to the chap who had put it in the lorry and said: "Are you in charge?"
Thinking he was about to get a wee hawf or somesuch from a grateful local he cheerily confirmed he was.
"Well it's my turn furra sterrs – so you can clean up," she said and handed the chap a mop and bucket.
We asked for your scramble stories, and Peter Curran in Kirkliston, West Lothian, recalls a cousin marrying a Polish officer during the war in Glasgow. Says Peter: "The wedding cars left from a tenement in Dennistoun. The affluent Polish servicemen threw half crowns for the scramble.
"The children scambling – me among them – were rapidly pushed aside by adults diving for the money. A half crown would be roughly a fiver these days."
Is anybody there?
A POSTSCRIPT to the Edinburgh Fringe as Robin Gilmour in Milngavie tells us about one young comedian who was going down like a lead balloon and shouted in exasperation at the audience: "Am I invisible or something?"
Naturally it was too good an opportunity to miss for one chap in the audience who shouted back: "Did someone say something there?"
BRUCE Skivington was shocked by the news story that Tory MP Sir Tony Baldry had crashed his Mercedes into a portable toilet and then hit a Poundland shop in Banbury, Oxfordshire.
"Totally unbelievable," says Bruce. "A Poundland in Oxfordshire?"
Watch the wildlife
A READER on the train from Clydebank to Glasgow realised it had turned a bit chilly yesterday when the woman behind him told her young son: "Put your jacket on, there's a draught."
There were smiles the length of the carriage when the excited little one jumped up shouting: "Where's the giraffe?"
NICKNAMES, and Jimmy Kinloch tells us: "When the gigantic Singer complex in Clydebank decided to rationalise all its lubricants and associated products under the one department, the manager of the new department was naturally known as 'the Lord o' the iles'."
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