Petting prohibited

THE Diary has a long tradition of printing stories emphasising the fiendish characteristics of schoolchildren. For the sake of journalistic balance we now publish a story that proves one or two of them are almost human.

Working as a primary teacher, Amy Kinnaird of Ayrshire had a succession of pet hamsters in her class over several years. Different children were charged with looking after the animals on a rota basis.

One afternoon Amy glanced at the hamster's cage and spotted a note pinned to the lid. It read: "Please do not touch this hamster, feed it or poke it or wake it or rattle its cage. Do not brethe on it. Thank you." The message was signed ‘Laura’.

With the help of such stern guardians of animal welfare as this young girl, the hamster survived to a ripe old age.


WRITING an email, John Delaney of Lochwinnoch typed in the word ‘general’, to be used in the phrase ‘in general terms’. Predictive text suggested the next word should be ‘George’, which our man thought to be a rather curious assumption.

“I thought the General George carpet store in Renfrew vanished long before mobile technology was invented,” he says.

Actually, we think the General George the predictive text was thinking of was General George Washington, that bold leader of the American War of Independence, and the first President of the US.

OK, he’s been dead since 1799. But predictive text has a long memory. And a very revolutionary spirit.

Gag reflex

SOMETIMES we receive a joke so bad the reader who sent it attempts to deny all culpability by refusing to let their name be printed. Today is such a day. ***** ******* gets in touch to torture us with the following gag. “Why were numbers 1 to 6 and 10 scared of 7?” asks our mystery missive poster. The answer is, of course: “Because 7 8 9.”

Yup, that is pretty bad. You should be ashamed of yourself ***** *******.

Egg-cellent pun

WE continue to enjoy a Francophile’s frisson of excitement whenever the French language is used. Roderick Archibald Young provides today’s Gallic goosebumps. As a restaurateur he used to be visited by a wee Frenchman. (Or should that be ‘a oui Frenchman?’) This bloke regularly came in for breakfast. When Roderick asked how many eggs he wanted he always replied: "One's an oeuf."

Colourful crossing

WE’RE still trying to come up with names for the proposed bridge connecting Scotland and Northern Ireland. John Mulholland believes that if the bridge has a lane built for people who wish to traverse it on foot, then perhaps it could be named… (you guessed it, folks)… the Orange Walk.

Mum’s the word

ENDING on a psychiatric note. Reader Brian Arnold says: “A Freudian Slip is when you say one thing, but you mean your mother.”