Pasta rat pack

A VIGNETTE of everyday Glasgow life, supplied by reader Frank Norman. The setting: The top deck of a bus. Our protagonists: Two elderly ladies. The theme: The culinary preferences of certain residents of the city.

First lady: Did I tell you, Mary, I’ve rats in the flat.

Second lady: Heavens! Are you sure?

First lady: Oh yes. They’ve been tearing into the cornflakes and powdered macaroni.

Second lady: There’s your problem, right there. Rats are awfy fond of the powdered macaroni.

Hair-raising verse

THE Diary’s favourite theatrical impresario, Robert C. Kelly, gets in touch to say he’s opening a show in Birmingham. One of the cast members went to the hairdresser and asked for a perm. The hairdresser said: “I wandered lernly as a clerd…”

Uninteresting undead

A NEW version of Dracula, co-written by Mark Gatiss and Paisley-born Steven Moffat is to be broadcast by the BBC. Falkirk reader Brian Bentham isn’t impressed by the return of literature’s favourite blood-sucking villain. “The problem with Dracula,” says Brian, “Is that he’s been done to death.”

Sam’s sandy sojourn

OUR recent suggestion that sequels should be made of famous movies, with an added Scottish twist, leads reader Tom McDermott to suggest a film about golfer Sam Torrance struggling to win a tournament. Sam finds himself bunkered for so long that he starts hallucinating that the sand surrounding him is a Middle Eastern desert. The film would be titled Torrance of Arabia, of course.

Irn maiden

LOUNGING at the bar in his local pub, reader Bruce Blackstock overheard a teenage lad arguing with his girlfriend. The girl in question was heavily basted in fake tan, leading her boyfriend to remark in a manner that lacked a certain level of George Clooney suaveness: “Did ye run oot ‘o fake tan, then? Yer that orange you must huv slathered yersel wi’ a boatl of Irn Bru.”

Elton versus Eliot

WEST End resident Ben Ferguson popped into his local bookshop to buy the recently published Elton John autobiography. An in-depth rummage resulted in Ben concluding that the shop was an Elton-free environment, even though the book is currently perched near the top of the best-seller charts. Our disappointed reader concluded that Mr. John is perhaps a little too lacking in sophistication to have his life story stocked in Glasgow’s suave West End. “Elton’s the guy who sang Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting,” says Ben. “Unfortunately in my neck of the woods Saturday night’s only alright for debating the merits of T. S. Eliot’s poetry.”

Seeking help

GAME for a giggle reader Martin Sugden informs us he has been trying to organise a Hide and Seek competition, though it’s proving rather difficult. Apparently good competitors are hard to find.

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