Oh dear, Santa

THE American right-wing news network Breitbart, whose executive chairman, Steve Bannon, has become Donald Trump’s strategy chief at the White House, knows its audience. Spotted on its website yesterday was an upbeat, wholesome festive feature. Its headline: “Six Great Concealed Carry Pistols for Your Christmas Wish List.”

Remind me who I am again

IF you suspect that ITV’s breathless promise of “famous faces” in the new series of I’m a Celebrity ... Get Me Out of Here stretches the word “famous” almost to breaking-point, you’re not alone. As Diary reader Bruce Skivington says: “Looking at this year’s ‘celebs’, shouldn’t the show be called ‘No-one Has Heard of Me ... Get Me Out of Here’?”

Legging it

TERRACING shouts, still more of. Ian Gilbert remembers a Hibs v Celtic match, sometime in the 1950s, or perhaps the 1960s.

“A few rows of terracing below me,” he says, “a lady with a west of Scotland accent yelled, to encourage her team presumably, ‘Tear his leg aff an’ hit ‘im in the face wi’ it!’ She was quite good-looking, too ... ”

The drinks are on him

AND Del Boy from Houston (the one in Renfrewshire) recalls an Old Firm match at Ibrox in April 2005, just after Stiliyan Petrov had opened the scoring for Celtic in front of the Rangers fans.

“He celebrated with great delight,” Mr Boy continues. “I watched as a large McDonald’s drink cup came flying over me and plonked itself firmly on top of the player’s head. A voice behind me loudly proclaimed that was the best shot Rangers had had all day.”

What a mash-up

SOME menu items just hold little appeal, regardless of the occasion.

Edinburgh’s great and good were out in force for a fundraising evening at the EICC at the weekend and they sat down for supper after a champagne reception. Eyebrows were raised when it dawned on the guests that the main course included “lime-mashed potatoes”.

One guest was heard to remark, “That’s the sort of thing you laugh at when watching Masterchef – not when you’ve paid £90 for a night out”.

Cardinal Sin

JOHN Mulholland says his office colleagues talking about Glasgow nightclubs from the 1980s reminded him of the time he told his gran one Sunday evening that he was going to Cardinal Follies in Pitt Street.

“What did you just say there?” she asked with a look of horror on her face. “Cardinal Follies”, said John. “Why?”

“Thank God for that,” she said, “For a moment there I thought you were going out for carnal knowledge.”

I wish, adds John.

Any other nightclub stories from Diary readers?

Get me to the church on time

ROBIN Gilmour remembers attending a morning wedding some 43 years ago when the organist turned up nearly 20 minutes after the bride’s arrival. At the reception afterwards, the Minister was asked to say a few words at the end of the meal. He apologised on behalf of the errant organist and said he hoped the guests had all enjoyed his “eventual” performance.

He went on: “I think you will all agree that Jimmy ... is definitely the George Best of the organ world. He’s brilliant, but only when he actually plays.”

He paused for effect then added, “However, I don’t suppose George Best ever wears his pyjamas underneath his trousers.”