Balls up

A RECENT story set on a Scottish links reminds a reader of the golfer who sliced his ball so badly it whizzed off the course, crashing into a nearby bus. The startled driver hurtled his double-decker into cars, pedestrians and even a wee Scottie dug minding his own business and dreaming idly of a juicy bone waiting for him at home.

Chaos ensued, with a side order of carnage.

“What should I do?” groaned the grief-stricken golfer, witnessing the devastation.

“Well,” says his golfing buddy. “Your problem’s in your grip. Now if you’d addressed the ball like this...”

Amelie = amore

OUR discussion about the saucy shenanigans people get up to watching Netflix reminds a reader of a colleague who watched the French film Amélie with his wife and told her he thought it was a great “good feel” movie.

She knew what he meant, and hopefully she gave him a wee cuddle anyway.

Present stinks

A RETIRED doctor recalls his days as a student when he would help deliver babies, then return to his classes. The day after one particular birth our medical man was contacted by the delivery room to say the grateful mum had left him a gift.

A bottle of whisky? Brand new stethoscope? Nope.

Our fellow was rather bemused to be presented with a very pretty bottle of perfume.

Having a giraffe

THINKING about buying a pet, Malcom Peterson from Clydebank says a giraffe is his preferred option. “They’re cheap to feed,” he explains, “because a little goes a long way.”

Chocs away

FAKE news item. Reader Charlie Baker tells us the unlikely story of the bloke crushed to death in a chocolate factory. “He tried yelling for help,” explains Charlie, “But every time he said ‘The Milky Bars are on me!’ everybody cheered.”

Name game

WE continue discovering words that would make excellent kiddy names. Jim Allan from Cellardyke says it’s just as well his wife only gave birth to sons as his favourite names for girls were Cynthia and Phyllis which he would have wanted to combine into the mellifluous-sounding Syphilis.

Sacrilegious behaviour

MORE misheard lyrics. Norman Brown from Barassie once believed the song We Are Family by Sister Sledge included the words: “Just let me staple the vicar.”

The lyrics are in fact: “Just let me state for the record.”

Talking of which, the Diary would like to state for the record that on no account do we endorse the stapling of vicars.

Unless you have a staple gun handy and the vicar’s particularly annoying.

Caustic in Caucasus

DAFT gag time. “What do you call it when a Russian Emperor uses irony to mock someone?” asks Ben Milton. “Tsarcasm.”

Read more: Glasgow welcomes Sir David Attenborough