Driven to distraction  

CURIOUSER and curiouser, as Alice was apt to say. Though it’s not a sojourn into the wilds of Wonderland that the Diary transports you to, today.

Instead we’re visiting the lavatories of Raith Rovers FC, where hangs a selection of posters purporting to be advertisements from "Raith Town Council".

One promotes the local number 14 bus route, listing places where the vehicle stops. These include the Pigeon Hospital, the Book Museum, Winston Blister’s Dept Store, the Electricity Market and Jails 6 & 7.

The Diary is eager to visit all these destinations, unfortunately there’s a delay.

For the advert goes on to explain that seats on the bus must be booked seven weeks in advance, registration forms available at the post office…

Footy flummoxer

ANOTHER strange tale from the world of kickyball. Reader Foster Evans guides us to the Division Two Scottish League Table, where a brain-bending tongue twister has surfaced.

For as Foster points out: East Fife Fourth, Forfar Fifth.

Footering about

IN preparation for a minor surgical procedure, David Clark from Tarbolton was asked to remove his shoes and put on a pair of flimsy, disposable slippers of the flipflop variety.

Upon noticing that David was having a spot of difficulty with the task, the nurse in attendance said: “Ah think they’re wan size fits naebudy.”

Cheery chappie

MYSTIFIED reader Rebecca Harrison gets in touch to ask: “Has anyone actually met this Larry that everyone is as happy as?”

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Gone to pot

THE World Snooker Championship took place recently, though initially the Diary didn’t bother finding out who won the thing. We’ve lost our passion for the game since the name Hendry stopped being stamped regularly on the winner’s trophy.

However, after a few hours of fevered research, and many phone calls to those in the know, we can now confidently announce that this year’s champ was… a chap in a waistcoat holding a stick.

Reader Beryl Hughes admits the game is not for her.

“I’ve just figured out why each match takes so long,” she says. “Every time some bloke pots a ball, another fellow wearing gloves sneaks it back on the table while no one’s looking.”

Booze addled badinage

OVERHEARD in a Glasgow hostelry at the weekend by reader Oliver Butler. A worryingly wobbly fellow slurred to a pal: ”Never mind God save the King. What about God save the gin?” 

No can do 

A PHILOSOPHICAL thought from Gina Thomas from Grangemouth. Says Gina: “A broken can is a can’t opener.”