Big match meltdown

AS our regular readers know, the Diary has a crack team of investigative reporters on the payroll.

The most prominent being the intrepid duo Woodstein and Bernward. (Who hate being confused with those clueless blokes who covered that insignificant Watergate thingummy back in the 1970s.)

Just the other day, Woody and Bern raced into the Diary head office and whispered in the editor’s ear that they had heard on the grapevine that there was going to be a top secret kickyball match in the southside of Glasgow, involving chaps in blue tops and chaps in white tops.

Further investigations followed, which mostly involved skimming the back pages of The Herald.

Now we can exclusively reveal that Scotland played England on Tuesday.

We don’t have space to report the piddling minutiae of the match, such as the score.

Though one of our correspondents, Ralph Cooper from Muirend, tells us that on the afternoon prior to kick-off he was on the same train as a bunch of boisterous supporters.

One young Scottish fan said to the elderly bloke next to him: “Ach, it’s no really an important game, though, is it? It doesnae go for much.”

“Doesnae go for much?” sputtered the elderly gent. “Any more wild talk like that and you can get aff the train - and you dinnae need tae wait for it tae stop, first.”


Daffy dreaming

THE hubby of reader Laura Quinn tapped her awake the other morning, and said: “I had a really crazy dream just now.”

“What happened?” enquired Laura.

“Well, I was eating crab paste…”

“And?” said Laura.

“Well, that’s it.”

“That’s not crazy,” said Laura.

“It was for me,” insisted hubby. “I’ve never eaten crab paste before.”


Fact-free facts

A FASCINATING snippet of knowledge, courtesy of reader Harry Bradley, who tell us: The two unwritten rules of life are…




Throwing shade

THE mother of reader Jason Fenn phoned and said: “I was so exhausted this morning. I didn’t know what I was about. I spent five minutes trying to hoover a shadow of myself off the living room carpet.”


Food for thought

OVERHEARD by reader Chris Robertson while in the Newton Mearns shopping mall. A middle-aged lady said to her chum: “I just knew civilisation was doomed when I discovered they don’t sell Key Lime Pie in M&S any more.”


Fat chance?

AMBITIOUS  reader Henry Barker tells us: “One day I hope to lose so much weight that I win the Nobelly Prize.”