Cheesy name

LA-BASED pop star KT Tunstall is back in Scotland, touring. Although her schedule’s busy she found time to visit Scotland Highland Cheeses, where a fellow working there named Rory the Cheesemaker (naturally) told the singer he was once asked to provide fancy cheeses for a swanky restaurant. One of the concoctions he offered was called the Minger. The restaurant was delighted, and immediately gave it pride of place on the menu. Rather regrettably, while typing out the menu, someone forgot to include the final r in the cheese’s name.

Never mind. With its mucky moniker, the hunk of mould is bound to be snapped-up by Gwyneth Paltrow, who can start selling it, along with her highly personalised scented candles.

The wheel deal

OUR story about the late wrestler Andy Robin reminds reader Sarah Nesbit of the time she and her husband watched a documentary about Andy and his constant companion, Hercules the grizzly bear. Hubby was taken aback that anyone could be in possession of such an outsize pet, leading him to mutter in consternation: “Imagine the size of that thing’s hamster wheel.”

Hollywood on Clyde

OUR mission to come up with ideas for new Scottish movies based on classic Hollywood templates continues. David Donaldson tells us he’s developing a contemporary musical, set in Glasgow, about a bunch of media types marooned on the wrong side of the river. Their only connection to civilization (i.e. pubs they can go for a booze-up) is provided by a curiously squinty bridge. And the name of this musical? South Pacific Quay, of course. David’s even composed some catchy tunes for this Technicolor treat, including There Is Nothing Like A Dame’s Salary and Some Enchanted Evening News.

Trump that

ANOTHER entry in our run of fumbled phrases. This time we bring you a faux pas of the fruity variety. Larry Hutchison was in Edinburgh's Oxford Bar, enjoying a lively discussion with his pals about this year's US presidential election. Our man suggested that Donald Trump's initial success owed much to the American voters' antipathy towards Hillary Clinton, even though they had been inclined to overlook her husband Bill's peccadildo. On hearing this, Larry’s pals became as animated as a bunch of rough ‘n redneck red-hatters, on the rumble at a Trump rally. It was some time before order was restored.

Road to ruin

OLD joke time, with a splash of modernity about it. “Why did the chicken cross the road?” asks Keith Brown. “No idea,” he concedes, “but you can bet the road will have its vengeance.”

Read more: The many faces of protest, 1985 and 1990