A shore thing

IT was one of those typically delightful days in Bonnie Scotland, where the rain reigned and the sky looked as murky as a tin bath moments after a coal miner has scrubbed up in it.

Reader Paula Gibson was on a bus travelling to Glasgow city centre when a chap got on wearing a long raincoat and wellington boots.

He sat down next to an elderly lady who said to him: “Awfy weather, intit?”

“Is it?” said the chap in the raincoat. “Can’t say I’ve noticed.”

“What d’you mean?” said the elderly lady.

“Well,” said the man in the raincoat, who just might have been a sarcastic sort of fellow, “I think it’s rather nice, out. That’s why I’m in beachwear.”

The elderly lady emitted an outraged snort, then glared out the window for the rest of the journey.


Flighty flower

WE’RE celebrating wacky workplace nicknames.

Says Hugh Steele from Cumbernauld: “I was based in an office where one of the young ladies had a terrible attendance record, and was always taking sickies. Her nickname was the Daffodil, as she only came out in the spring.”


Bridge too far?

CURIOUS names, continued. David Donaldson was perusing a report on a BBC website about a school bus getting stuck under a low bridge.

The reporter, who was clearly the perfect woman for the job, was named Caroline Lowbridge.


Tree-mendously vindictive

THOUGHT for the day from reader Dan Hill: “A paper cut is a tree’s last act of defiance.”


Clock that

“THE times they are a-changin’” burbled Bob Dylan, back in the day.

Though apparently the times they aren’t a-changin’ all that much, and back in the day is now back for today.

The Beatles are riding high in the charts and the Rolling Stones are promoting a new album.

Which leads reader Henry McBurney to say: “I seem to recall that the clocks went back a few weeks ago. Now I’m starting to wonder, just how far back did they actually go?”


Rhyme time

MULLING over the curious ways of the world, reader Graham Andrews gets in touch to say: “I often wonder what certain objects would be called if they had been named by the same chap who decided to call a two-way radio a walkie-talkie.

Adds Graham: “I’m assuming a fork would be called a stabby-grabby.”

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Dead reckoning

NOSTALGIC reminiscing from reader Peter Moyle, who says: “I used to make sandcastles with my grandpa. Until my grandma ruined it by taking the urn away.”