ST Valentine’s Day has come and gone for another year then. The diarist has never been one of mankind’s great amorous adventurers. One always thought, for instance, that the erogenous zones were a series of equatorial, rocky outcrops which provided a secluded home to the marine iguana.

Footage from the Winter thingymebobs of the seductive elegance and Kama Sutra-like positionings of ice figure skating, with its mildly erotic twirls and potentially eye-watering birls, got the diarist thinking of the forthcoming auction of a racy old tome from 1720 that was banned for over 200 years due to its explicit content. No, it’s not the Pictorial History of Cowdenbeath FC but is, in fact, Aristotle’s Masterpiece Completed In Two Parts, a highly controversial Georgian sex manual which offered up questionable pearls of reproductive hocus pocus and a variety of carnal curiosities while being peppered with handy, illustrative wood carvings. Perhaps SFA president Alan McRae should use it for his next public speech?

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Upon reading about all this, the diarist’s mind wandered back to another two-part opus of strange advice, peculiar findings and quirky conclusions. Yes, that’s right, it’s Henry McLeish’s elaborate and exhaustive Scottish Football Review. Nothing fans the flames of passion and stirs the sensuality quite like poring over the recommendation that “the automatic allocation of two committee places to each member of the council should end.

CANINE capers abound as Rangers dug fancier James Tavernier continues to revel in his pooch-related business sideline known as Designer Bullies. Presumably, he came to Ibrox to Winalot? Then again, it’s perhaps more a case of Pedigree Chumps? To some, an American Bulldog has a face that resembles Les Dawson opening a disappointing bank statement. The bold Tav clearly loves them, though. “These American Bulldogs only came into the UK in 2012 so they are quite new to people,” he said. Funnily enough, the mongrel that was newco Rangers also appeared that year.

THE diary and the Winter Olympics tend to go hand in hand. Let’s face it, by the time you’ve nonchalantly leafed your way to this part of the paper, it’s all downhill from here. Watching the hurtling hoopla of the luge the other day, the diarist couldn’t help but reflect on the majesty of German luging great and triple gold medal winner, Georg Hackl. In a suit so tight there was actually no room to fit an E on to the end of his forename, Hackl was known as the Speeding White Sausage. In Glasgow after shutting time, meanwhile, some well-lubricated folk in equally tight attire totter out of the chippy with the Staggering White Pudding.

TALK about a badge of dishonour. When funky marketing people get hold of something, you can guarantee they’ll use bamboozling buzzwords like “amplifying our meaning” or “evolving media touch points”. The last time the diarist tried to evolve my media touch point, I got a ticking off from HR. The calamitous rebranding of the Leeds United crest for the club’s centenary caused a quite appalling stooshie. It was hardly surprising given that it resembled a bloke looking at his watch. A flurry of new designs will be unveiled for consultation next week. It’s a vast shortlist the SFA could only have dreamed of …

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THINGS are getting fizzy in the Irn Bru Cup as we get to the semi-final stage. This weekend, Dumbarton take on Welsh side The New Saints, who represent the two towns of Llansantffraidym-Mechain and Oswestry which are eight miles apart. The train station in tonguetwisting Llansantffraid-ymMechain closed in 1965. Hopefully someone pinched the station sign as a momento. It’s an Auld Lang Sign, after all.

DID you know that Rowdy Gaines turns 59 today? Of course you didn’t. The delightfully named Rowdy Gaines, which sounds like a description of The Herald sports desk’s body building programme, is an Olympic gold medal-winning dooker and international swimming hall of famer. The diarist looks forward to passing on our birthday congratulations to Major League Baseball stalwart, Rusty Kuntz.