Prize guys

WITH the swish and swagger of the Brit Awards taking place a few days ago, our readers may be wondering why the Diary doesn’t have its own prize-giving ceremony. The answer, of course, is that appearing in the Diary is reward enough. It’s such an illustrious achievement that it may eventually make its way onto the headstones of many of our contributors.

Carved in stone will be: ‘Here lies so-and-so. Proud mother (or father) to two lovely children. Captain of industry. Leader of nations. Loved by many. Admired by all. And – most importantly – the originator of a crackpot comment published in The Herald Diary.’

Surely nothing is more rewarding than appearing in our column? Well, surprisingly, something is.

Appearing in our column… again. Which is exactly what the following contributors all achieve this very instant, as once more we open our vaults to enjoy some classic Diary daffiness…

Perfect profession

TEACHERS are most wise, though they can’t always predict the future. A reader recalled a classmate at his school from years ago who liked staring out of the window.

The teacher often shouted at him, “You’ll never get a job looking out the window all day!”

“Well, she got that completely wrong,” explained our reader: “He was a bus driver for thirty years.”

Geography for beginners

A REMOVAL van driver once stopped in Brechin and asked a local woman where a certain street was. She didn’t know, but as she had lived there all her life, she took his delivery sheet, read it, and told him: “You do know you’re supposed to be in Brecon, Wales?”

Phoney friendship

BOYS can be cruel to each other. This was confirmed by a reader on a bus to Glasgow who heard a teenage chap ask his pal: “Can I borrow your phone to give my girlfriend a bell?”

“Sure,” replied his mate, handing the mobile over. “Just press redial.”

Rubber-necker

UBIQUITOUS in the streets and closes of Glasgow are the red rubber bands used by postmen. One postie told us that a colleague was asked by a youth in the street: “Huv ye any spare elastics?”

The postman handed over a few rubber bands, then strolled on. Seconds later, one of them pinged off the back of his neck as the youngster scooted off laughing.

She’s behind you…

ONE wintery evening a reader was at the Pinocchio panto in the Pavilion in Glasgow when the fire alarm rang during the performance. The 1,200 audience members dutifully trooped out into the street. They were followed by the cast in their costumes, which led one wee Glesga wummin to say to her tot: “Look, hen. Ah told you it wis real – even the fairy got papped oot.”

Initially problematic

A TEENAGER was overheard telling his chums that by coincidence his Higher grades were the same as his favourite band: ACDC. He added that he wished he’d been an ABBA fan instead.

Motoring when maudlin

A CHAP in a pub was overheard declaring: “I’m so lonely I even take wrong turnings in the car so the sat-nav will talk to me.”