Profusion of confusion

THE scatter/scramble/poor oot/heize/something-else-entirely debate (as we pithily refer to it) continues. So what is the correct terminology for a straggle of street urchins chasing a wedding car, on the hunt for coinage? Reader Foster Evans arrives on the scene to clear the matter up. No, wait. He’s only adding to the confusion. “You could always see weans at John Street registry office loitering for a scramble,” he recalls. “Though in Bathgate it was a scatter, according to my best pal. She’s heard it called a scammle, too. We both also call it a skawn.” A skawn?! The Diary naively assumed that was something that tastes delish smeared with butter and jam…

Jungle fever

WE’VE been shadowing Greg Hemphill lately, in order to vicariously bask in his dazzling post-Still Game life. So far we’ve spied him accidentally biting his tongue and mulling over the possibility of taking up pipe smoking. We now bring you news of Greg’s comedy comrade, Ford Kiernan, who is leading a similarly action-packed existence. “Aw naw,” wails Ford, aghast at his behaviour. “I’ve started watching jungle!” Ford shouldn’t be so hard on himself. After all, there is something worse than watching I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here. Appearing on I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here.

Height of ambition

SOMETIMES a young boy is so ambitious his father feels duty bound to aid him in realising his hopes and dreams. Case in point: James Bennett’s son is showing an interest in boxing. The teenager hasn’t as yet set foot in a ring, or even the local gym, though he’s had the foresight to ask dad if there’s any way he can specialise in fighting boys much smaller than himself. “I’d do really well if that’s allowed,” explained the lad. “Though not so well if I have to fight guys the same height or taller.” Unsurprisingly James hasn’t felt inclined to purchase boxing gloves for his pugilist progeny, though he is considering buying him a stepladder so he can loom over all possible opposition.

What’s cooking?

THERE used to be a grocer’s shop in Cumnock run by a certain Jim Livingstone. Reader Colin Campbell recalls Jim once standing in front of the heater in the shop when a customer strolled in, nodded towards a shelf, and said: "Is that your Ayrshire bacon?" To which Jim quickly responded: "No, it's just my hands I'm heating."


PRINCE Andrew's jaw-dropping interview with Newsnight’s Emily Maitlis has been described as a car crash. “Does this mean his father was driving?” enquires reader Martin Morrison.

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Love and lolly

BEING a generous soul, reader Josh Barbour loaned his girlfriend £50 soon after they started going out. Two years later they broke up and she returned the fifty smackers. “I guess I just lost interest in that relationship,” sighs Josh.