ApPAULling life

IT must be a thrill-a-minute lifestyle for seasoned broadcaster Paul Coia, who has presented numerous radio and TV shows, chatting to a firmament of major stars along the way.

The former Radio Clyde man provides a spyhole into his whirligig existence by revealing that he caught himself muttering the other night: “I can’t believe how much spinach wilts.”

The whirligig seems to have wound down a tad.

“Shoot me now,” sighs Paul.

Brown feeling blue

WE continue listing those intractable Scottish problems that we hope world renowned spoon-bender, Uri Geller, can solve. (Uri already claims to have used his mystical powers to help our footy team reach Euro 2021, so we assume there’s nothing he can’t do.)

Reader Amy Hill wants Mr. Geller to attempt to bend something even more rigid than a metal culinary implement.

“I see former Prime Minister Gordon Brown’s frowning fizzog is in the news again,” notes Amy. “It would be marvellous if Uri could uncoil Gordon’s mouth and twist it upwards into something approximating a smile.”

Trump tipple

AFTER we revealed that a Trump sandwich is being sold in a Scottish bar our culinary-minded correspondents started imagining what other delicacies could be introduced to the market. Andrew Curry suggests a Trump wine, which would, of course, be made exclusively from sour grapes.

Fortune telling’s torpid

“WHY can’t palm readers do anything for themselves?” grumps reader Laura Graham. “You always have to give them a hand.”

Happy talk continued

MORE buoyant and upbeat phrases with a distinctive Scottish flavour. Former Labour MP Jim McGovern informs us that the fine folk of Dundee are particularly carefree and vivacious, especially the womenfolk, who are often heard to remark: “That’s the rehn on again. It’s that sma’ stuff.”

To which the correct response is: “Goes right through ye diz it.”

When a youngster gets in trouble, you’ll often hear: “Eh, bra laddie tae. Sully fir eez sel.”

Followed by the reply: “Eh, eez ain’ worse enemy.”

Lacking glove love

SHOPWORKER Deborah Rivers, who is based in a bohemian boutique in Glasgow’s West End much frequented by eccentrics, spotted that an elderly fellow had left his gloves on her counter. Catching up with him as he vacated the store, she said: “I think you left these behind.”

In an imperious tone he replied, “Hardly. We have agreed to a trial separation,” then sauntered on his way, minus the gloves.

Fit or fatal?

THOUGHT for the day from reader Tony Ferns, who says: “2020 is the first year health experts warned us to avoid gyms.”