Bottled up emotions

GLASGOW is a city where the street theatre is dramatic and oftentimes a tad dangerous. Reader Harry Jones was strolling along Buchanan Street this week when he witnessed, mid-afternoon, an energetic argument between two gentleman wayfarers of the vagabond ilk.

One of the chaps was guzzling enthusiastically from a bottle which contained some mystery liquid which probably wasn’t Perrier water.

The one without the bottle screeched to the other: “Ya beast, ye! Ya beast!”

His acquaintance responded rather generously by offering to share his bottle… in a manner of speaking.

Raising the drinking receptacle aloft, he proclaimed: “See if I hud oany money? I’d smash this o’er yer heed an’ buy anither boattle.”

Wordcount woes

SCOTTISH crime scribe Liam McIlvanney’s latest novel, The Heretic, is proving popular. Though one reader got in touch with the author to complain about the 200 plus ‘f’ words in the copy. (Yes, apparently they took the time to count every naughty word.)

“To be fair,” shrugs Liam, “think they quite enjoyed it, apart from the effing and blinding. Each to their $&@!ing own…”

Toasting the bread

WE continue celebrating teenage gourmets. Instead of buying her usual sliced pan loaf, reader Veronica Miller purchased Tiger bread. (This sort of reckless behaviour occurs frequently in the Diary. Our correspondents are a wild and devil-may-care rabble.)

Veronica’s sixteen-year-old son was impressed by the dazzling upgrade in baked goods.

Pulling the loaf from mum’s shopping bag, he held it to the light admiringly, and declared: “Yes, indeedy! A Tiger loaf - the caviar of breads.”

Bouncer lacks bounce

ENTREPRENEURIAL Robert Doncaster hired a bouncer for an event he organised. “The bloke arrived thirty minutes late,” fumes Robert. “Then he wouldn't stop asking if I was angry with him. Turns out I hired an Insecurity Guard.”

Picture this

LLOYD Cole, the former lead-singer of Scottish 80s pop favourites, Lloyd Cole and the Commotions, is touring as a solo troubadour.

In his Lisbon hotel he happens upon a framed painting… in his shower. “That is odd, isn’t it?” muses Lloyd. “Or is it a thing?”

To which the Diary can only respond, perhaps it’s a watercolour?

Dig that rocker

WE continue discussing the curious incident of Rod Stewart filling in potholes in the road near his mansion. “It doesn’t look like plain Sailing,” admits reader Jan Roberts “though I guess it’ll keep him Forever Young.”

Light my fire

“VISITED an HMV shop,” reports reader Malcolm Coldbridge. “Asked if they had anything by The Doors. The assistant replied, ‘Yes, a fire extinguisher’.”