Diary

THE following item exposes the Diary to the risk of throwing stones while living in a glass house, but here goes. It consists of extracts from a list of journalistic solecism which has been compiled over the years. There is one journalist, who shall remain nameless, who is the master of the neologism. He reported that a chap who would not take no for an answer was ''dogfastly'' pursuing an issue. A new cinema multiplex was incorrectly but elegantly described as a ''multiflix''.

The same man wrote of a ''florita of vessels on the river'' and how a ''tirade of water flooded the playing fields''. He described a well-known local as ''a ken spectacle figure''. An accident victim, he said, had ''escaped the clutches of death's door'' and a criminal who had ratted on his colleagues was quoted as saying: ''I could be dead the night before tomorrow.''

''Short-term jail sentences are getting longer,'' he wrote. The unfortunate miners at Monktonhall ''faced a gauntlet of mixed emotions''.

Another expert at the mixed metaphor wrote: ''The Secretary of State must now pull the plug on the helpline before any more public money is literally poured down the telephone receiver.'' A feature writer explained: ''St Patrick, in case you didn't know, was the man responsible for driving all the snakes away from Ireland during the potato famine.'' A travel article mentioned the joys of ''skiing in Cloisters''. A football writer reported that ''Tommy Burns venomously defended his goalkeeper''.

We will stop for now and leave you with a report of a drugs trial which said of the accused: ''Ecstasy fell out of his trousers.''

A NICER man you couldn't meet than Bob Palmer. His departure after 10 years as Glasgow's heid bummer of culture will be marked by a party on Wednesday at the Tramway. Bob's deputy, Christine Hamilton, has circulated the arts and media worlds with invitations and a request that colleagues and friends send messages of farewell. We are sure there will be many fond words of adieu. We are also pretty sure, judging by a straw poll, that the last part of Ms Hamilton's missive will receive a less enthusiastic response, particularly from people whose arts organisations have suffered grant cutbacks. It asks that cheques, made payable to Glasgow City Council, be sent as a contribution to Bob's presentation.

AUDITIONS are being held in Glasgow on Sunday for male dancers to appear in Goal, a ''fusion of dance, music, and moving images, inspired by football'' which will be unleashed upon Scotland's theatres next spring. We can think of some footballers who are eminently qualified. Brian Laudrup of Rangers gets plenty of practice at the Dying Swan routine, usually in the penalty box.

Andy Goram is no stranger to tights. Ally McCoist wouldn't be in the show but would come on for the encores. The show is the brainchild of Kerri Jeffrey who is described as a singer, choreographer, and Hibs fan. She says: ''I always wanted to create something on stage which captures the way I feel on a Saturday between 3pm and 4.45pm.'' Sure, but who wants to go to the theatre to be depressed?

FROM the Internet, we filch this tale of an accident report filed by a bricklayer: ''I put 'poor planning' as the cause of my accident. You ask for a fuller explanation and I trust the following details will be sufficient. I was working alone on the roof of a six-storey building. When I completed my work I found I had some bricks left over which later were found to weigh 240lbs. Rather than carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by using a pulley. Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out and loaded the bricks into it. Then I went down to the ground and untied the rope, holding it tightly to insure a slow descent of the 240lbs of bricks. You will note on the accident reporting form that my weight is 135lbs.

''Needless to say I proceeded at a rapid rate up the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor I met the barrel which was proceeding downward at an equally impressive speed. This explains the fractured skull, minor abrasions, and the broken collarbone. Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley. Fortunately I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold tightly on to the rope. At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Now devoid of the weight of the bricks, the barrel weighed approximately 50lbs. I refer you again to my weight.

''I began a rapid descent. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles, broken tooth, and severe lacerations of my legs and lower body.

''Here my luck began to change slightly. The encounter with the barrel seemed to slow me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell into the pile of bricks and fortunately only three vertebrae were cracked.

''I am sorry to report, however, as I lay in pain on the pile of bricks I again lost my composure and presence of mind and let go of the rope and I lay there watching the empty barrel begin its journey back towards me . . .''