Pot Luck

IN the 1970s Glasgow clothing factories were sociable places, says David Donaldson, who owned such an institution. He recalls the day one of his pressers brought in a large container of soup which she shared out at lunch break.

"That's really great soup, Frances." said one of the machinists, "How do you make it?"

"Well," said Frances, "I take the big pot I use for boiling nappies..." The rest of the recipe got drowned out by the howls of horror from every other member of staff.

Shipping news

IT was with a sense of relief that Jim Arnold from the Isle of Arran heard that Prince Andrew had turned down the opportunity to become an admiral in the Royal Navy.

“Just as well, really,” says Jim. “It means I don’t have to get in touch with the Diary to tell the old joke about the WREN who was court marshalled for misconstruing an order to take out the admiral’s pinnace.”

As Jim says, that was a close call. Though it should be emphasised that the Diary follows a strict moral code of conduct. Meaning it was always highly unlikely that we would have published such a risqué joke in the first place.

Blazing mad

FOR some obscure reason now lost in the mists of time, the Diary has found itself collecting amusing anecdotes about kitchen appliances. Our favourite alliterative correspondent, Barham Brummage of Bathgate (a bloke bountifully blessed by a barrage of letter Bs) recalls a story that appeared in a local paper some years back.

This bastion of the free press reported on a house fire in the swish ‘n swank suburb of Bearsden, revealing that the blaze was caused by a chip pan.

The owner of the house was outraged to find himself connected to a kitchen implement most commonly associated with the huddled masses of the proletariat.

Resulting in the paper being forced to print a retraction, stating that the conflagration had, in fact, been caused by a deep fat fryer.

Booked out

WHEN you became a famous author, the world opens up and every stranger looks upon you with awe and admiration.

That’s how it should be, at any rate. Though crime scribe Val McDermid reports it sadly isn’t the case. “I’ve been stopped going into my own events on several occasions,” she sighs. “Once while standing next to a poster with my pic on it!”

The kiss off

ILLUSTRATOR Paul Dock says it’s true what they say: “You have to kiss a few frogs before finding your Prince Charming.” He adds: “The security guard who chucked me out the amphibian section at the zoo was very handsome.”

Played for a fool

BUYING a guitar recently, reader Mark Munro was disappointed to discover it didn’t work. “Guess I should’ve been suspicious when the seller said there were no strings attached,” he adds.