The bog standard

THE Diary was sad to hear of the threatened closure of the McVitie’s biscuit factory in Tollcross. Author Deedee Cuddihy recalls an anecdote told to her by a woman who worked there, which was later published in Deedee’s book "The Wee Guide to Scottish Women".

Reminiscing about her time on the shop floor, this former employee said: “The woman in charge of the recipe room I worked in was called Vera Love, who was so proper and lady-like that if you needed to go to the toilet, you weren’t allowed to use the word ‘toilet’ and you certainly didn’t say bog or cludgie or kazi. You had to call it ‘the bathroom’.”

Texting times

WE recently discussed the future of the NHS, when a computer operated ambulance will arrive on the scene of an accident and a mechanical medic will treat the injured party.

Reader John Mulholland adds that in this eutopia/dystopia (take your pick) people will no longer need to phone for medical assistance.

Instead, they will send a text with a symbol specifically devised for summoning an ambulance in an emojincy.

Cutting comment

NEWSPAPERS and hairdressing salons are the main culprits when it comes to inflicting excruciating puns on an aggrieved public. The two sinners teamed up recently when a certain newspaper column, which shall remain nameless (okay, it was the Diary) happened to mention that there’s a snippety-snip joint called Ali Barbers.

Reader Gordon Casely adds to the pun-ishment by telling us: “When I grow up, I’m going to have a barber salon that I’ll call The Royal Hair Force.”

Tree-mendously uneducated

THINKING about big business, reader Stephen Campbell says: “There must be some teenagers who have grown up believing Jeff Bezos bought a rainforest and named it after his company.”

Mystery man

WEARING his mask in the local pharmacy, Malcolm Boyd from Milngavie said to the person at the counter: “The repeat prescription for Malcolm Boyd… or The Lone Ranger.”

The pharmacist, a good sport, replied: “Where does the Lone Ranger live?”

Malcolm confirmed his address and the lady handed over the prescription, drily adding: “Hi Ho Silver, away.”

Spikey and spud

A MENTION of a Dr Shirley who lectured in Glasgow Uni’s psychology department reminds Gilbert MacKay of being taught by the very same fellow, who once memorably explained a point about statistics with the aid of three knitting needles and a potato.

Surrey saviour complex

THOUGHT for the day from reader David Donaldson, who asks: “Do the inhabitants of Woking show a particularly high level of political consciousness?”