Creamy concoction

HURRAH! The planet is finally going to be saved in just over a week’s time when the great, the good and the gloriously green meet in Glasgow for COP26.

Or perhaps the situation will get worse, when the talking shop produces a cloud of hot air which hovers in the sky above Scotland, before blasting a Glasgow-shaped hole in the Ozone layer.

Luckily the Diary team have truly green principles. For we have craftily created a product so darned enjoyable that our readers constantly pester us to recycle material, by occasionally publishing the cream of our classic stories.

Which we are happy to do now, with the following top tales from the vaults.

Frisky faux pas

IN the far off days when there were such things as offices, there were also office parties. A reader heard two young chaps holding a post-mortem on their office do, where partners were also invited.

“I wasn’t that drunk,” one of them insisted.

Countered his pal: “So how come you ended up asking your girlfriend if she was single?”

Dog gone it

WE recall the Glasgow council official visiting a house in Blackhill, where he noted that the tenant had knocked through archways in all the rooms so that you could travel from the living room to the kitchen to the bedroom and back round to the living room.

When asked why he had done so, he replied: “To train my greyhound.”

Transport traduced

GLASGOW is not always a place for effusive congratulations. The Diary recalls when the city’s transport museum was named European Museum of the Year. The staff immediately put this news on its Facebook page, no doubt expecting thousands of messages of congratulations. But amongst the first to comment was a visitor who merely wrote: “Kelvin Hall was better.”

Beach babe

A CHAP in a Glasgow pub was being quizzed by his mates about his use of a popular online dating site. “I put down that I was looking for a woman who loves long walks on the beach,” he told them. “It’ll giver her something to do while I watch the fitba.”

Sand trap

A RETIRED chap joined an Ayrshire golf club and informed the professional that his handicap was a respectable six, and his main difficulty was getting out of bunkers. The pro said he could teach him some useful ways of improving his bunker play, but the chap added: “No, son. I mean climbing oot the bunker after I’ve taken my shot.”

Face facts

AN Ayrshire couple holidaying in Portugal were having their nightly stroll and enjoying watching all the buskers and street entertainers. One local was sketching portraits, and as he was studying the face of his next customer, admittedly not the bonniest, an unmistakable Glasgow accent came from the chap standing behind him studying the canvas, who loudly announced: “He’s got his work cut out there.”

Dance macabre

“MY husband had a near-death experience at the weekend,” a woman was heard telling her pals in Glasgow’s west end. “He tried to change the channel when Strictly Come Dancing was on.”