John Doe

NEWSREADER John MacKay was on Lewis filming a cameo role for a new movie based on his novel The Road Dance.

The Diary’s man on the ground, John Mulholland, also procured a part as a supporting artist. (Or an "extra, as they’re known to the intelligentsia.)

Our correspondent found himself standing beside MacKay in the wardrobe department. A crew member approached and said: “And who are you?”

In that lush, silky voice adored by telly watchers, the newsman purred: “I’m John MacKay.”

A long silence ensued. “You’re not on the list,” said the crew member, “I’ll need to go check.”

Our man turned to MacKay and said: “Jolly poor show, not knowing the author was expected.”

“I know,” rumbled MacKay, who concluded his thought with that lusty battle cry roared by celebrities the world over: “Don’t they know who I am?”

Taking the Mickey

A PLUMBER servicing Perth comedian Joe Heenan’s boiler discovered a dead mouse in the contraption.

"Oh no,” sighed Joe. “Will it need a new mouse?"

The plumber stared at his client as though he’d taken leave of his senses.

And, no, he didn’t provide Joe with a replacement rodent.

Woolly tale

THE Diary considers itself to be following in the literary footsteps of F Scott Fitzgerald, as our speciality is dazzling readers with glamorous tales of jet set extravagance.

For example, Catherine MacQuarrie from Erskine tells us her mother Betty once found herself standing beside Sean Connery in the St Andrews Woollen Mill as they both raked through the holey cashmere sweaters, searching for a bargain.

Not quite hooked

A TALE about the exciting hobby of fishing reminds reader Tom Garner of the time he attempted to persuade his American wife they should take up the pursuit. To which she responded: “Fishing’s a jerk on one end of a line waiting for a jerk on the other end of the line.”

Errr, really?

INSPIRING words from reader Martin Harris: “To err is human. To blame it on someone else shows management potential.”

Antisocial media

WE continue imagining what heinous atrocities would have led to Guy Fawkes being consigned to the flames if he had lived in our own gentle and tolerant era. Paula Willis from Largs suggests the unforgivable crime of posting a fair and balanced opinion on Twitter would no doubt result in Guy all aglow.


A SAD reminiscence from reader Pete Coe, who says: “My father wasn’t in the picture much as I was growing up. He was a portrait photographer.”

Read more: Those were the days