Pea shooter

WE’RE discussing the fine dining habits of the Scottish nation.

Reader John Gilligan tells us of a grand event held at the Albany Hotel, Glasgow’s swankiest hotspot in the 1960s and 70s.

Dinner was being served, silver service of course.

A rather snooty gent declared in a brusque and assertive manner to the wee wumman serving that he didn’t want peas, thank you.

Without breaking stride she plopped a pile of peas on his plate and declared: “Peas ur compulsory.”


Order of boot

A DIARY yarn about the perils of socialising reminds Jim Pairman of an observation from the late Scottish folk singer Hamish Imlach.

Hamish, a famously convivial fella, reckoned he was allergic to leather because every time he woke up in bed with his boots on he had a hell of a headache…


Financial crash

OPTIMISTIC reader Linda Mumford visited a fortune teller who predicted a large amount of money would rapidly be coming her way.

When she returned home she excitedly informed her husband.

From behind his newspaper he said: “Sounds like you’re about to be run down by a security truck.”


Musical/menu mash-up

FOR no especially good reason (other than it’s oodles of fun) we’re combining yummy foods with legendary music acts.

Gordon McRae suggests blending Liverpool’s most famous troubadours with a tasty treat from Turkey, thus creating a new version of a late-night snack… Lady Ma-doner kebab.


The high life

NEWSHOUND David Donaldson was reading a report about thieves scaling an eight thousand-foot peak in the Alps in order to nab cash from a climbing club’s collection box.

Says an outraged David: “Surely this can only be described as the height of cupidity?”


Beggar’s belief

THE other day Joyce Clayton was in Glasgow city centre when she spotted a kindly old lady handing some spare change to a beggar.

The elderly woman was also rather chatty. As she slipped the coins into the raggedy fellow’s hand, she said: “Are you really struggling, son?”

To which the beggar, perhaps a tad ungratefully, replied: “Naw, luv. I’m savin’ up for a yacht.”


Half-baked mystery  

RAVENOUS Roddy Young scarpered off to his local bakery to buy a sugary snack, though when he got there he was confronted by a curious conundrum.

“How come all your cakes are £2, but that one is £3?" queried Roddy.

"Ah," said the baker, "that's Madeira cake."


Tummy trouble

“NOBODY mentions having caterpillars in their stomach,” notes reader Anna Walker. “So how come they end up with butterflies?”