PERTH-born comedian Joe Heenan has a vivid imagination, which must be a lot of fun for his offspring.

Or perhaps not.

The funny fella’s four-year-old son recently heard an ice-cream van for the first time and asked dad what it meant. Dad explained it was a warning to lock the windows and doors because a bear was on the loose.

“He just heard it again,” says Joe. “Now he’s running about the house shouting ‘Bear! Bear!’”

The comedian is entirely sympathetic towards his flustered and fleeing four-year-old.

“Idiot,” he chuckles.

Fishy tale

A STORY of travel, survival and miraculous recovery. Rhona McKay is Scottish by birth, though currently living in Texas. The Lone Star State is a fine place to call home, though it lacks some of the necessities required by a wandering Scot. So Rhona was forced to improvise…

“I brought a fish supper from Scotland to Texas once,” she explains, “Wrapped up in lots of cling film and a bath towel. Quick zap in the microwave and it was perfect!”

Name game

NEWTON Property Management, the factor business owned by reader Stephen O’Neill, once employed a capable gardener who was aptly named Gordon Hose.

“It didn’t take long for me to rechristen him Garden the Gordener,” says Stephen.

Dairy scary?

“THEY say cheese gives you nightmares,” points out reader Fred Martin. “But that’s nonsense. Who’s scared of cheese?”

Dead reckoning

LISTENING to Radio 4, Gilbert MacKay, from Newton Mearns, heard a sentence that he concluded was perhaps three words too long: "I never saw him perform live before he died."

Reading exercise

WE’VE been devising Scottish versions of the word "bookworm", which describes a person who enjoys reading. Russell Smith, from Kilbirnie, suggests "Jotter Spotter" or "Walter Scotter".

Fan fiction

FOOTY’S finito in Scotland, though the Premier League continues in England, much to the satisfaction of reader Ben Thomson, who watches the games on telly.

Ben particularly enjoys the fake crowd noise being broadcast, which creates the impression that thousands of fans are enjoying the game, instead of a couple of security guards and a stray cat.

He now wants to incorporate the hullaballoo into his own life.

“I’ll boil the kettle in the morning to the roar of an imaginary crowd,” says Ben. “Later, I’ll loaf on the sofa, staring vacantly into the middle distance, while my supporters go wild. Fake feisty fans. The perfect addition to a life devoid of drama.”

Flight of fancy

SOME entomological info, courtesy of reader Arnold Fowler, who asks: “What’s the opposite of a firefly?” The answer, rather unexpectedly (though linguistically sound) turns out to be: “A waterfall.”