The scene is a meeting of the Carfin Celtic Supporters Club where the members were preparing for the taxing football season ahead. The specific item on the agenda was the handing out of loan application forms. Football season tickets are expensive items these days

and the good Tims of Carfin have a system whereby supporters can have an interest-free loan to buy the season ticket and then pay the cash back in instalments.

The scheme is aimed at helping unemployed or low-paid punters. Which is why the Carfin supporters were moderately surprised when one of their number, Michael MacMahon, came forward to collect a loan application form. Mr MacMahon is the newly-elected MSP for Hamilton. Obviously reports of the big wages and expenses for members of the Scots Parliament have been exaggerated.

So there's this really sexy chicken and a very fanciable egg. They end up in bed together and afterwards the chicken leans back on the pillow, lights a languid cigarette, and says: ''Well, that answers

that question.''

The cover photie from this month's Piping Times appears to show a piper using a

small child as a dudelsack. Before you start phoning ChildLine about the cruelty involved

in producing grace notes by squeezing the

under-arm wean, you should know that sometimes pictures do lie.

The piper in question is Mr James K M Brown and the bairn is his son, Douglas. Mr Brown has a letter in the magazine explaining the beneficial effects of bagpipe music on the wee ones. ''When Douglas is crying, my wife's efforts to soothe him by playing Mozart or Gregorian chant just make him cry louder. What Douglas really likes is to lie on my shoulder while I play the chanter: he goes from screaming to silence in 30 seconds flat. Holding Douglas under my left arm while I play makes it easier to finger the chanter, though it is slightly less comfortable for baby. Any pipe music will calm Douglas, although he prefers the more bloodthirsty tunes such as The Battle of Auldearn or The Red Hand in the Macdonalds' Arms.

Lord Steel of Aikwood, or, as he prefers to be known in his current job, simply Sir David Steel, was being shown round Queensberry House which is going to be the staff entrance and admin centre for the new Parliament. One of the people showing the party round commented that it was one of the oldest buildings in use in Edinburgh. Sir David, restorer of the sixteenth-century Aikwood Tower with a combination of funders including a somewhat reluctant Rupert Murdoch, who settled a libel suit out of court, said: ''Of course, this is a relatively modern building compared to my house.'' Words like yersel, above, and getting spring to mind.

We note there are no fewer than 43 Shakespearean presentations at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe this year. The leader-off is Macbeth with four productions to his name, one of which involves Ukrainian stilt-walkers.

Even more daunting is Macbeth the musical presented by Western Connecticut State University. It is titled Macbeth 2000 and it sounds as if it will put grey in your hair, rather than remove it. (What, incidentally, is Grecian 2000 going to be called the year after next?) Macbeth 2000 is billed as ''a multi-media rock musical'' and contains songs such as Is This a Dagger? and Hold Fast the Mortal Sword, which we are sure will appeal to some of Edinburgh's less-peaceful citizens. Dog-haters will no doubt relate to Out Damn Spot. We imagine that there are many more Shakespearean song titles out there.

Elephant's Sufficiency, the punning sandwich emporium in Edinburgh High Street, has been conducting a poll, and have even constructed a pie chart, on its parliamentary pieces. Running neck and neck are the Red Hot Sheridan, with a revolutionary filling of bean pate, peppers, tomatoes, and chilli, and the Harper, an eco-sandwich full of fresh greens. New to the list is a sweet known as the Jim Wallace, which is a classic Orkney fudge.

DoN'T ya think I'm sexy? No, we simply have Reason to Believe you're sitting at someone else's table, sir. Pity poor Rod Stewart, he of the anthemic back-catalogue, unfortunate record in romantic dalliances, and excruciating penchant for leopard-skin breeks. Oh, you wear them well.

He turns up without a reservation for lunch at Rogano on Saturday, Waltzes Matilda right past the reception desk, Sailing on to table 10 . . . unfortunately, this cosy corner table had already been pledged to Rogano regulars celebrating their wedding anniversary. Nothing for it but to shift the megastar along to a less-discreet table where he Maggie Might be viewed by one and all. Well, if you've got him, why not flaunt him?

Kenny Dalglish, master of the equivocal and short answer, was apparently telephoned by a magazine which was running a piece on him. They asked if he thought he had any distinguishing features and, if so, what they were. He replied: ''Mebbe eyes, mebbe nose.''

An echo of the Diary's word-cloning competition arrives from Australia. It was a simple concept - add a letter and alter the meaning. Ian Cox, who works in the office of the Western Australia state parliamentary commissioner, comes up with Pombudsman, a person who deals with complaints from whingeing immigrants.