Mind your language

AS a busy GP, Russell Smith from Kilbirnie treated a multitude of unusual illnesses. He was also confronted by a variety of exotic phrases. A certain patient would often stagger into Russell’s surgery whining: “It’s ma romantics, Doc.” It wasn’t his libido this chap was complaining about, but his rheumatics. The same patient would say: “I need some o’ the Benny Lynch for ma chest.” Not that he was in dire need of a flyweight boxer. Benylin cough mixture was what he was after. Another favourite phrase was: “The wean has e’en like wee rid ferrits.” In other words, his child’s eyes were a little bit red.

Game’s up

LIBERAL Democrat leader Jo Swinson hasn’t been enjoying the most triumphant of General Elections. A recent opinion poll concluded the more people saw of Jo, the less they liked her. It would seem comedian Jamie Dalgleish is also of this opinion. “Jo Swinson looks like a primary school teacher who, on the last day before the holidays, won’t let you bring in board games,” he says. In the interest of balance we feel duty bound to point out that it’s doubtful any of our political leaders would welcome board games in class. They’d force the unlucky pupils to read their party manifestos, cover to cover, instead.

Bum deal

OUR tale of a shopkeeper’s hands being confused with a lump of Ayrshire bacon reminds Leslie Goskirk of the wartime story, hopefully apocryphal, of a butcher who accidentally got tangled up in his meat slicer. His customers got a bit behind with their rations.

Science of scramble

IN recent weeks the Diary has been scathing of those scramble scallywags who sprint after wedding cars in the hope of obtaining filthy lucre. Amy Kinnaird from Ochiltree gets in touch to defend the scavenging scamps, while admitting she was once a member of their tribe. “My recollection of such events from my 1940s childhood is not so much the few pennies and wooden threepenny bits I managed to pick up,” she says. “But the skint fingers I ended up with after having them tramped and stamped on in the process.” Amy concludes that the scrambles of her youth would have been worthy of study by the great naturalist Charles Darwin: “It was the survival of the fittest in my neck of the scramble woods,” she sighs.

Party animal

ROYAL family update, courtesy of Glasgow-based gag writer Michael Redmond: “Prince Charles reluctantly agrees to take over Prince Andrew’s public duties and attend sex parties around the world,” jokes Michael.

Read more:The day Rick Stein paid a stag party to leave his restaurant