Biting wit

STILL Game may have concluded with much public fanfare and tears from hardcore fans, but Greg Hemphill’s glamorous showbiz shenanigans continue triumphantly. Well, sort of. “Bit my tongue a belter,” he reveals on social media. “Now looking forward to two or three days of aftershock bites.”

Scheming kids

THE debate continues. We asked whether the tossing of coins from wedding cars to those vulture-like kids who gather for such occasions is a scatter or a scramble. Today’s shocking revelation is it’s… neither. “When I was a wee boy in Telford, Edinburgh, we called it a poor-oot,” reveals Harry Woodward, who is still a resident of that fair city. “It was probably called that because wedding guests felt obliged to pour out their loose change to those of us not invited to the festivities,” adds Harry. “Although maybe the ‘poor’ referred to our status as ‘schemie’ kids!”

Spirited final message

THE last words of a loved one can be poignant. They can also be pretty darned scary, according to Russell Smith from Kilbirnie. Especially when those last words are spoken after the loved one has died. A minister friend told Russell that he was once officiating at a crematorium service when a ghostly voice wafted over the mourners, just as the curtains had closed on the coffin. “That’s me away, then,” whispered the voice. Before any of the mourners could ask for more specific details about the proposed journey (such as whether the dearly departed was headed in an upwards or downwards direction) it became apparent that the voice didn’t belong to the cove in the coffin. It was an attendant signalling he was sneaking off early for a snooker match.

Coffee cruising

POPPING into a Glasgow coffee shop, reader Suzanne Cameron was served by an exuberant American who handed over Suzanne’s drink along with the succulently Stars and Stripey salutation: “That’s a wrap, buddy!” Such buoyant and exotic language certainly impressed Suzanne, who tells us: “My coffee beans came all the way from Brazil, the waiter was a Yank and the type of coffee I was drinking was Italian. Only the boiling water was Scottish.” She adds: “Who needs a foreign holiday when you can travel around the world without leaving your chair in a coffee shop?”

Post-pub pang

ENJOYING a night at the pub, Joan Gibson’s husband was still feeling the after-effects the following morning. It wasn’t just the throbbing headache, there was also a torturous tang tickling his tongue. “That’s the taste of regret you’ve got in your mouth,” Joan explained to hubby.

Funny about money

WITH a certain swagger, reader Tom Christie tells us he’s now working on making his second million. With slightly less swagger he adds: “I’ve already given up on earning my first million.”

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