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FORMER Herald reporter John Cooney, now working in Dublin, has become embroiled in the bizarre story of the Archbishop and the self-abusing monkey.

No, it's not one of those tedious jokes, but the gossip about the former Archbishop of Dublin John McQuaid. Our John has just finished a biography of the Archbishop, and

was called in as arbiter when an Irish

newspaper claimed that the late Archbishop crept out one night with a .22 rifle and

shot dead a monkey in Dublin Zoo which was, according to the Sunday World, ''addicted to masturbation''.

The Archbishop was afraid, apparently, that the monkey, Adolphus, was setting a bad example to children visiting the zoo, and took the matter into his own hands,

as it were, when the zoo refused to do anything about it.

Our Mr Cooney has now declared that he has heard the story from a number of sources and believes it to be true, but with the Archbishop now dead, no-one will ever know for sure.

But it could well be the first case of a

Primate shooting a primate.

EDINBURGH council leader Donald Anderson's vigorous management style is a bit of a

culture shock after the courtly demeanour of the previous incumbent, Keith Geddes.

The approach of the ''ayatollah'', as some staff have unkindly nicknamed him, has officials quaking. In fact, one official has recently been wearing a portable blood-pressure monitor. As one colleague explained to us: ''As soon as Councillor Anderson gets up a head of steam, the beeper goes off and exit one harassed official.''

AT a recent meeting of the Strathclyde Passenger Transport Authority one of the officials was explaining that a concord had been reached with Ibrox after the past misunderstandings regarding what he was very careful not to call the Clockwork Orange.

There had been suggestions, you may recall, that staff were refusing to run the service when there were Sunday matches at Ibrox. In fact, the official pointed out that they had received many letters from Rangers supporters questioning the religious allegiance of the authority. Councillor Jim McNally exclaimed: ''Letters? Letters? You mean these people can write?'' nailing his tricolour firmly to the mast, we would suggest.

SCOTRAIL'S announcements continue to fascinate. Gordon Hanley tells us that during the disruption caused by flooding last week, the ticket collector on an Airdrie train was heard over the train announcement system asking the driver what was to happen to passengers wanting to travel on the Yoker line.

As a mobbed train of passengers

late for work listened to this

private conversation with bated

breath, the reply came back: ''They're on tae plums by the way.'' Says

Gordon: ''I don't know if this is included in the ScotRail book of reasons why we're late.''

AN elderly lady in Brora had been sold,

by a couple of Irish likely larrikins, an

item of furniture purporting to be a

bed-settee. According to December's Police magazine, it stubbornly resisted being turned into anything, but remained set in its ways as a settee.

To the credit of the Northern Constabulary, the salesmen were traced and questioned. They attempted evasion but one of the Brora polis asked them to explain in detail the precise actions needed to convert the sofa to a bed, to which one replied: ''Have you tried lying down on it?''

A NEBBY wee Killie five-year-old was constantly bragging in his class about his redecorated bedroom. ''Ah've goat a Star Wars duvet cover, Star Wars pillowcases, and Star Wars wallpaper - tons a Star Wars stuff.'' He went on and on boasting and, as he was interrupting the lesson, the teacher finally threatened that she would have to go round to the house and talk to his dad.

A flash of trepidation crossed his

face and he quickly said: ''Well, it's no the hoose with the Star Wars curtains, so it's no.''

WE have received a Christmas card from Isobel MacDonald of Brodick, the front of which depicts Santa on a green Arran slope with a CalMac ship steaming (or dieseling, or whatever it is that CalMac boats do these days) up the Firth of Clyde.

Isobel points out, correctly, that Santa is wearing nail varnish, a confirmation of something we had always suspected, that Santa is, in fact, a woman.

THAT seamlessly leads us into our Christmas countdown story today in which a member of the sisterhood tells us why Santa can't possibly be a man:

n Men can't pack a bag.

n Men would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet.

n Men don't answer their mail.

n Men aren't interested in stockings unless somebody's wearing them.

n Being responsible for Christmas would require a commitment.

FINALLY, it's not the readers' fault, but we have to be extra careful with Diary

stories we are sent just now. To give an example. We are told of the Glasgow beggar who put a bit of ingenuity into his pleading by saying: ''Haw chief, for a silly donation I'll gie ye a bit of information that could save your life.''

Intrigued, the money is handed over and the mendicant would tell his financial donors: ''Never take a lift hame in a car fae Edward Kennedy.''

It's a good story, but unfortunately it comes from Not The Worst of Tom Shields, Mainstream #9.99, a new publication which is an amalgamation of Tom's first two

compilations of Diary stories.

So people buy the book, read the stories, tell someone, and they send them back to us. But we promise to be on guard, and not to recycle them.