Whisky A Go Go

ROCK stars rarely have retirement plans. Rather than move to Bournemouth, or take up golf, your average rocker prefers to die young, a rictus grin smeared across his face, as he is slowly crushed to death under a pile of amiable groupies.

Not Justin Currie, the lead singer with Glasgow band Del Amitri, who reveals he has stumbled upon a shabby shed in a field which he’d like to turn into a local hot spot.

“I’m going to retire here and sell whisky through the window,” enthuses Justin, though he has strict stipulations regarding purchases.

“No timewasters,” he growls. “And you get what you’re given.”

Justin, who really doesn’t believe in customer choice, adds that he might allow ice, though patrons will have to bring it themselves.

They’ll also have to fetch water from a nearby pond.

Freddy faux pas

ANOTHER occasion made awkward by inappropriate musical accompaniment. Tony Griffin from Aberdeenshire recalls the tale of the DJ who was broadcasting his show on a Scottish radio station one evening when news broke of the death of Fred Astaire. At the next commercial break the jockey legged it downstairs to the station library and grabbed the first Fred Astaire record he found. Making it back to his studio just in time, he slapped the disc on the turntable and breathlessly announced: “This is a tribute to Fred Astaire, who died today – Dancing Cheek to Cheek.”

The record started playing: “Heaven, I’m in heaven…”

Board senseless

THOUGHTFUL reader Daniel Hamilton says: “Perhaps the reason it took so long to invent the drawing board is because, after each failed attempt, there was nothing to go back to.”

Bloody facts

THE Diary continues to provide an education for its readers, courtesy of Glasgow crime scribe Denise Mina who reveals she met a retired police surgeon the other day and, “he wants everyone to know this: It’s blood SPATTER not SPLATTER."

For complete clarification we must add that the phrase, “That gied him the boak,” is the correct medical terminology to use when describing the reaction of a layman stumbling upon spatter… or even splatter.

Boozy badinage

STUDENT Richard Taylor was in a bar with a pal who slugged eight pints of snakebite & black, which is, of course, a mix of lager, cider and blackcurrant cordial.

Feeling queasy by night’s end, this fellow groaned: “I’m gonna puke. Must be something wrong with that blackcurrant cordial.”

Farmyard fun

“HOW do you get a country girl’s attention?” asks reader Adam Pottinger. “Tractor.”