Bummer summer

AUTUMN is fast approaching, as our readers will have realised if they have strolled in a Scottish park recently, where the ageing leaves are shrieking with terror as they’re released by branches, and find themselves hurtling towards the ground with no parachute to break their fall.

(That’s the scientific reason why leaves are called leaves, by the way. Because their cruel landlords, the trees, order them to leave.)

The summer that is rapidly vanishing in a puff of wistfulness has been a game of two halves. Both halves involving Wellington boots and umbrellas.

Surely the huge fiery ball in the sky must have been around somewhere, though it’s been as visible as a Spanish football official at a lecture on feminism.

In truth, the only bright part of summer was the Diary, which continued to shine beneficently on its readers.

We’re sticking around for autumn and winter, too, so you can look forward to many ditzy and delightful tales, much like the following classic yarns from our archives…


Toilet humour

A MILNGAVIE reader was having work done in the garden when one of the gardeners knocked on the door and asked if he could use the toilet. As she had just washed the kitchen floor, and seeing the state of his boots, she told him: “I’ll just put some newspapers down.”

“I’d rather use the toilet,” he replied.


Dead reckoning

STROLLING through the Botanic Gardens in Glasgow, a reader spotted a chap lying on the grass with his dog beside him, despite the temperature barely hovering above freezing.

As he was wondering whether the chap was ill, another person strolled over and asked if the prostrate man was OK.

“Aye,” replied the chap. “I’m just pretending to be deid to see if Prince here would go for help.”


Clock that

HIGHLANDERS have a reputation for being laid-back. A chap from Greenock’s car broke down in the west Highlands and it was towed to a local garage for repairs.

When the  chap inquired when it would be ready, the owner thought for some time, then told him: “Two wee whilies.”


Boogie blues

WE once asked a Herald colleague how his dance lessons were going. “Not really progressing with my waltz,” he sighed despondently. “I feel as if I’m taking two steps forward and one step back.”


Linguistical larceny

AN ambitious reader with literary aspirations once got in touch with the Diary to complain: “People say I’m a wanton plagiarist - their words, not mine.”


Snooze, you lose

A CHAP in a Glasgow pub asked a pal: “Do you ever snore so loud you wake yourself up?”

As his pal nodded in agreement, he added: “It happened to me once - worst job interview ever.”