Cam after storm

THE Government of Rishi Sunak continues to make the final hours of RMS Titanic seem, in comparison, like the placid meanderings of a pedalo wafting across the smooth expanse of Rouken Glen Park.

Reader Paul Barnes was absentmindedly listening to the news on the radio, when he heard that Suella Braverman had been sacked as Home Secretary, and that Cameron had been spotted striding into Number 10.

Says Paul: “I thought to myself, this won’t do. After all, Andy Cameron regularly contributes humorous material to the Diary. Working for Sunak will seriously curtail this vital journalistic role.”

It was with a great sense of relief that Paul later discovered that the Cameron in question was former Prime Minister, David, for as Paul sensibly points out: “David Cameron is free to dabble in politics, because he’s rubbish when it comes to witty badinage. And I don’t remember him contributing a single tale to the Diary.”

 

Weepy woes

IT’S not only in the national seat of government that chaos and calamity are to be witnessed. Such spectacles are also to be seen on the streets of Glasgow.

Or, to be more specific, in the public transport system of that great city.

Bill Thomson was on a bus travelling into Glasgow when a young mum with a twin buggy boarded the vehicle, then, with great emotion, asked the driver to take her  "somewhere where the crying will stop".

 

Muddled muncher  

A CULINARY conundrum from reader John Cochrane, who asks: “If someone is unsure about what to eat, does that make them a vaguean?”

 

Rhymey-timey, continued

WE’RE trying to figure out what certain objects would be called if they had been named by the same bright spark who decided to call a two-way radio a walkie-talkie.

Says David Donaldson: “I suppose a really big set of step ladders might be named a mighty-heighty.” 

 

The old vice

THE other day reader Geraldine Sutton mentioned to her husband that she noticed that elderly people were inclined to spread gossip.

“Yes,” he agreed. “A lot of them suffer terribly from rumourtism.”

 

Smooth operator

THE Diary is celebrating madcap workplace monikers. Willie Mould from Strathbungo says: “I remember a guy who worked at the Arnish fabrication yard in Stornoway, who was known as Teflon, because he was a welder who couldn’t make things stick.”

 

Dead giveaway

MORBIDLY-INCLINED reader Emma White says: “I’ve always been curious to know if a mortician’s favourite game is formaldehyde and seek.”