Old clothes
READER Sandy Tuckerman enjoyed Ken’s wedding stories in Saturday’s Diary. “They reminded me of the old jokes. What do you call a girl from Kilwinning in a white shell suit? The bride. Followed by: What do you call a young man from Kilwinning in a suit? The accused.”
Off kilter
RUSSELL Smith in Kilbirnie, meanwhile, is prompted to recount the following shocking tale: “I recall the initial silence and intake of breath when the groom announced in his wedding speech that he couldn’t wait to get his new wife’s knickers off – and, after a suitable pause for dramatic effect, pulled out a pair of bloomers from under his kilt.”
Red snapper
IN his new book Dinosaurs Rediscovered, Professor Michael Benton of Bristol University claims Tyrannosaurus rex was ginger. Gingerphobes might think that explains the temper but gingerphiles like us prefer to think it means big and strong but, er, with tiny wee arms.
My word!
IAN Sommerville in Port Bannatyne, Bute, was enjoying the tennis on the BBC but something peculiar came up his screen. Says our man: “The technology that translates the spoken word into subtitle text decided that Andy Murray might be on the edge of making a ‘scumbag’.” Maybe it was a backhanded compliment.
Slimy creature
READING an editorial in yesterday’s Daily Mail – well, someone has to – some supportive words about Tory leadership candidate Boris Johnson irresistibly reminded us of something, but we couldn’t put our finger on it. Quoth the leader: “This is not the Boris people have come to know. The articulate Boris. The optimistic Boris. The clever, witty Boris, who surged to victory in the referendum campaign.” Then it struck us: it was “clever, ingenious, intelligent” Mr Toad out of The Wind in the Willows. All together now: “The clever men at Oxford/Know all there is to be knowed/But none of them know half as much/As intelligent Mr Toad!”
Chip chump
BOJO’S rival Jeremy Hunt, meanwhile, was in Scotland, in preparation for which he’d incurred ridicule by tweeting that the thing we cared most about in the world was the third runway at Heathrow. Desperate to re-tartanise himself, he posed for pictures in Peterhead eating a fish supper. Presumably, his aides had advised him that what we like to see in Scotland is a candidate on the batter.
Face-palm
AT least Mr Hunt essayed some kind of humour when he told a recent hustings that he’d no objection to supporters referring to him as “Hunty McHuntface”. Not sure they were supporters, Jeremy.
Curly Hurly
POOR old Mark Ronson. The English-American singer and musician was once asked what he missed most about England and made the mistake of saying: “Well, I loved Curly Wurlys.” Result: sympathetic fans started throwing them at him at gigs. As Mark laments: “You know, you throw a Curly Wurly at a festival, it picks up some speed and you get hit in the head, it’s like, it might be a gesture of love but it can be painful.” True dat. Or as the song has it: “Love hurts.”
Bamboozled
WATCHING the Women’s World Cup, reader Michael Watson was taken by the name on the shirt of Cameroon’s number 22: “Abam.” Says Michael: “Clearly she has spent some time in Glasgow.”
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