Doug’s dig

URBANE English journalist and Old Etonian, Douglas Murray, has never seemed overly perturbed about making enemies, and has spent much of his career behaving like a maleficent midge that has somehow managed to master the intricacies of a laptop.

He has drizzled scorn on the woke, heaped ire on Islamic fundamentalists and jousted with the reputation of Joe Biden.

But has mean Mr M gone too far?

In a recent article he boasts of his politeness as a house-guest by revealing that he asks his hosts if there is anything he can bring them that they wouldn’t find in their neck of the woods.

“When visiting friends in Scotland, for example,” he adds, “I might offer to take with me some fresh fruits or vegetables. “

The insufferable cheek of the chap! Doesn’t he realise that Proud Scotia is the turnip capital of the world?

Plus an entire carrot was spotted a month ago in Glasgow.

Full disclosure: The carrot might have been a deep-fried Mars bar coated in a particularly orange-looking batter. Though it did look sort of carroty.


Quibbles with nibbles

MORE evidence that Murray is wrong, and that Scotland is an oasis of sophistication.

Reader Nicola Martin was in the Waterstones café in Sauchiehall Street when an elderly lady waddled up to the counter and requested toast.

Alas, toast was not available.

The barista suggested ciabatta.

The customer pondered for a moment, then said: “Is that the wee square hingmy wi’ the wee dimples?”

“Yes,” said the barista, gathering together all the dignity of his profession. “It is.”

“Aye, go on,” shrugged the lady. “Better than nuttin’.”


Your number’s up

MIXED messaging from reader Tom Perkins, who says: “My IQ is so high that I can’t even count that far.”


Telly visionary

WE mentioned the tragedy of having enough dosh to pay for Netflix and Amazon, though not Apple TV.

Forward thinking reader Sam Stewart predicts: “In years to come the class system will be based on the number of streaming subscriptions a household has.

Upper Class: 5+.

Middle Class: 3-4.

Working Class: Make shadow puppets on the living room wall.


Chocs away

SUMMER arrived in Scotland. At last. Reader Emma Bollen said to a chum that she hoped it would stick around for a few weeks.

Her chum snorted, then said: “Scottish summer isn’t a Twix, you know. There are no second helpings.”


 Stripey switherer

“WHAT kind of bee can’t make up its mind?” asks reader Marcus Brett. The answer is, of course… “A maybee.”