Anyone for tennis?

THE Loch Ness Monster has always been a shy sort of celeb. She doesn’t post on Twitter or Instagram, refuses to star in her own reality TV show, and has no interest in becoming this week’s most discussed social influencer.

Some people may criticise Nessie for preferring a lonely loch to an LA swimming pool. Yet that tendency to shun is also part of the fun.

Though no longer. For Nessie has been on the move, spotted in a lake in London’s Wimbledon Park. Perhaps she’s training for next year’s tennis tournament, hungry for the fame and fortune that arrive with winning it.

Unlike naughty Nessie, the Diary will never waddle off to Wimbledon. We’ve also been around a long time, as these classic tales from our archives prove.

But we remain more than content paddling in our Loch of Lusty Laughs…

Flight of fancy

A BEARSDEN reader recalled a funeral organist playing the rousing ‘Dambusters March’ as mourners left the crematorium.

When the undertaker asked why he chose the tune the organist smugly replied that he noticed the deceased had a floral arrangement spelling out Biggles, and assumed that was his nickname as a former RAF pilot.

The undertaker shook his head and replied: “You were half correct. It was a nickname – he was known as Big Les.”

Winner loses out

WE recall the sad occasion, years ago, when film director Michael Winner died. Critics were divided on the merits of the English auteur’s oeuvre, which led one reader to say: “I hope, as a mark of respect to Mr Winner, that television companies don’t put on any of his films.”

Tricky fella

ONE of our correspondents, a comedy fan, watched stand up Mick Miller at The Leapark Hotel in Grangemouth.

Mick informed the audience that he started in showbiz by running away with the circus, and was with them for nine years.

He didn’t have an act, he explained, but was the only one who knew how to stuff the tent in the bag.

Transparently true

AN attractive blonde driver was spotted by a reader being pulled over by police in George Square for driving in a bus lane. She told the officer it was the fault of other drivers who wouldn’t let her pull into the main stream of traffic.

“I’m sure somebody would have let you in with that winning smile,” argued the gallant police officer.

Not to be beaten, the lady pointed at her windscreen and said: “Tinted windows.”

Visionary linguist

THE late Willie McClure, deputy head at Prestwick Academy, was a keen amateur footballer with no bookings, who transgressed when he told a referee that he was “myopic”.

The ref replied: “Son, I don’t know what it means, but your name’s going in the book.”

Food for thought

A READER overheard two women in a Glasgow coffee shop discussing a friend. One declared: “I wouldn’t say she wasn’t the brightest, but she was in the supermarket wanting to buy some scratch, as her new boyfriend was boasting about his mum cooking everything from scratch.”