Drinking habit

WE stumbled into fake nun stories and Ronnie MacQuarrie recalls: "Years ago my sister, dressed as a nun, and her boyfriend, dressed as The Pope, went to a fancy dress party. When the party finished they were heading home and came across a very drunk man lying in the road. They decided to lift him off the road and prop him up against a wall. As they did so he woke up and looked around wide eyed, made unintelligible noises then flaked out again. I often wonder if he gave up the drink."

Nip in the bud

OUR yarn about the gardener putting whisky on his grass brought forward the observation from a few readers, including Peter Hunter, who said: "My neighbour sprays his grass with whisky to save him time and energy because it comes up half cut." Sorry about that.

And kirk elder Ian Cooper in Bearsden passes on: "There was the apocryphal tale of the new parish minister who stopped at the garden of a non church attender and declared, ‘Good morning my friend, what a very fine garden you have here - isn’t it wonderful what man and God can achieve when working together?' ‘Aye,’ retorted the dour gardener, ‘But you should’ve seen the place when God had it to himself’."

Buttering up

HOW to deal with the insincerity of bosses. A Glasgow reader tells us her boss came over to the person at the next desk in her office and said: “Sorry, are you in the middle of lunch?” The girl merely replied: “No I just like holding sandwiches.”

Hot stuff

WE asked for your restaurant disasters and Peter Morton recalls: "I was on holiday with the family in a downtown Disney restaurant a few years back and tucked into what I thought was lovely green avacado - unfortunately it was actually wasabi. You can imagine the carnage that followed. My son and daughter never fail to remind me of that difference."

Under pressure

GROWING old, continued. Says Craig Deeley: "My middle-aged version of an adrenaline-fuelled race against the clock is getting all four tyres checked and pumped up before the timer stops."

Just a number

COMMENTS a middle-aged woman: "Pharmacist at the dispensary just asked if I was 36, so I told him I'm actually 45 but have a good skincare regime. Anyway it turns out he was checking the address on the prescription and was referring to my house number not my age, so if you're looking for a prat I'll be over here."

Love it

SO, are you keeping track of all the folk applying to be Tory Party leader? Broadcast journalist Theo Usherwood compared it to a moronic television programme just about to start a new series and comments: "True story: if one more Conservative MP enters the leadership race then it will be more crowded than this year's Love Island."

Gamely, East Renfrewshire Tory MP Paul Masterton replied: "It'll be less attractive on the eye, but probably contain more dumpings, cheating and partner swapping."

Post it

MY favourite critic last week was reader Margaret Forbes who tries to cheer us up with: "Your column is getting too serious. Did you hear about the tap dancer? He fell in the sink! Boom boom! Sunday Post 1970."