Going for gold?

TODAY is April Fool’s Day. Or as it’s known around the Diary office: Business As Usual Day. For all year round we celebrate mankind’s foibles, fumbles and foolishness.

And that’s just the way we like it.

When we witness a successful athlete clambering onto the podium at a prestigious sporting event, the Diary staff aren’t eagerly awaiting the gold medal ceremony. We’re crossing our fingers and hoping the victorious geezer or gal stumbles and falls off the edge of the plinth. (Though, of course, we don’t wish them to be hurt in the process. We’re a cruel bunch, though not irredeemably evil.)

The following classic yarns from our archives show humanity at its best. Which for us means at its worst.

In other words, wacky mirth not winner’s medals.

Though talking of medals…

 

Excuses, excuses

WHEN the Commonwealth Games were held in Glasgow in 2014 a gold medal winner failed a drugs test, leading one of our readers to comment rather harshly: “You can’t ban athletes at the Games for having traces of drugs on them. They’ve been walking around Glasgow for a fortnight.”

 

Summing it up

SCHOOL exams are looming. We recall the Bearsden parent who asked his son how he felt he had done in his Higher maths exam.

The youth mulled over this question for a moment before replying: “I think what’s important is that we have our health.”

 

Smoking hot snog

NOT everyone likes cigarette puffers, it has to be said. A Lanarkshire reader at a New Year party told us that a young chap there kissed a girl at midnight who said, with a certain look of disgust: “Yuck. You smoke? It’s like kissing an ashtray.”

The chap tried to preserve his dignity by telling her: “That’s some strange hobby you’ve got.”

 

Low on laughs

WHEN Liverpool comedian John Bishop performed two nights at Glasgow’s Hydro, a reader, who was perhaps not an ardent fan, commented to the Diary: “They say if you come from Liverpool you’re either a musician or a comedian. John Bishop must be some musician, then.”

 

Rail romance

WE recall the classic tale of the woman at Glasgow Queen Street station who said at the ticket office: “Maryhill, single.”

So the chap behind her put his cash down and said: “Alex Smith. Married.”

 

Maggie’s moving on…

A READER going through airport security was behind a chap who had dawdled a bit and was well behind his wife, who had already gone through. When the chap at the desk stopped him and asked for his boarding pass, the traveller explained that his wife had it, then bawled out: “Margaret, come back!”

The security chap turned round and said: “Margaret. Now’s your chance. Run!”