Go-slow in Govan

ANGELINA Jolie visited the UK this week for the premiere of Disney fairy tale, Maleficient: Mistress of Evil. With this in mind, the Diary has decided to recall a few of our favourite phantasmagorical yarns from yesteryear. You can call these little episodes fairy tales, urban folk stories or incidents of an apocryphal nature. Each one, however, amused us. Such as the Norwegian manager at the Kvaerner yard in Govan who asked a shipwright to make haste and speed things up. Miffed at such instruction, the Clydesider replied: “Look, pal, this is a boiler suit ah’m wearin’! No an effin track suit!”

Holy terror

CRANHILL is the scene of another mystical yarn, where a local minister answered the knock at his manse door to be confronted by a child in the company of an irate parent. The child had a gory head wound, stitches and all. Father muttered darkly that it was all the fault of the church. “Kindly explain,” said the minister. “Well,” said the father, “It’s that unbreakable glass in the church windows.” His darling child had been engaged in the harmless practice of lobbing a half-brick at the windows when the aforementioned brick bounced back and cracked him on the napper.

Lost in translation

A GLASGOW community worker of English origin had not quite mastered the nuances of the local lingo. At a meeting, the community worker was desperately trying to get volunteers to form a committee. A wee lady in the front row had her hand half-raised, unsure whether to volunteer. “Ah!” said the community worker, pointing to the woman, “What about you?” The still-undecided woman replied: “I’m swithering.” To which the community worker beamed: “Good! That’s Mrs Swithering. Anyone else?”

Milking it, somewhat

A MIDWIFE was paying the last of a series of visits to a lady in Bridgeton who had just had a bairn. To mark the occasion, the mother persuaded the midwife to stay for a cuppa and scone. The midwife duly complimented the mother on her baking skills, remarking that the scones were delicious. “Yes,” said the proud mother, “I always think they’re lighter and tastier when they’re made with your own milk.”

Uptight tights

TWO elderly women standing in the post-office queue in Hardgate, waiting to collect their pensions, were showing a great interest in the girl in front of them. She was wearing a pair of very thick, very black tights. As the girl left after being served, one old dear turned confidentially to the other and said: “Mary, mind when we were young, whit happened to girls who wore thae black woolly stockings?” To which Mary replied: “Aye. Nothing.”

Lion in wait

THE scene was a safari park which had been blessed by a school trip from the Possil area of Glasgow. A number of the little angels had escaped their bus and were frolicking in the long grass. A concerned safari park ranger drove up in his Jeep at this point, screeching: “Boys! The lions, the lions!” To which one of the lads calmly replied: “Don’t worry, mister. We never touched your lions.”

Unhappily ever after

WE end with a joke of the fairy tale genre. June Sneddon tells us her granddaughter asked if all fairy tales begin: Once Upon a Time. June replied, “No, sometimes they begin: ‘If elected, I promise to…’”