THE sun was shining brightly one morning, so energetic reader Gordon Wright decided to wear his shorts for a power walk.

“The temperature was much lower than anticipated,” admits Gordon, who adds: “By the time I got home I was feeling like Putin's daughter – my substantial assets were frozen.”

Mind your language

TO prove our thesis that schools would run more efficiently if the authorities banned children from attending, the Diary has been publishing a series of exposes about pesky pupils who make every teacher’s life a daily disaster zone.

Brian Johnston, from Torrance, East Dunbartonshire, recalls a story about a little girl who was found in the school corridor in tears. She confided her distress had been caused by a classmate calling her names. She refused to say what she had been labelled because it was a “bad word".

Eventually, she was persuaded she could spell the word out.

"He called me a f*****g C-O-W," revealed the girl.

Power-peddling Puss

AFTER unsuccessfully checking local shops for a new bed for her pet cat, reader Alice McLean logged on to Amazon, where she found the very thing that would be comfortable for her moggie.

After clicking ‘Buy', up popped a notification stating: 'Customers who bought this item also bought…'.

Alice was surprised to discover that instead of pet feeding bowls, the other items included "smart cycling sunglasses".

“I can picture the scene,” says Alice. “Puss spinning along Campbeltown Esplanade on his drop-handlebar bicycle, sporting his trendy shades…”

Finger-licking good

AS a youth living in America, Matthew Howard attended an exhibition where Moon rock brought back by astronauts was on show.

Our reader rubbed one rock with his fingertip, then popped the dirty digit in his mouth.

“When I told my wife years later,” says Matthew, “she scolded me and said: ‘I’ll never again be able to think of the Moon as romantic, now I know you licked it.’”

Rural rabbiting

ON Radio 4’S Any Questions a Tory minister explained the Government and the National Farmers’ Union were setting up a fertiliser round-table with regard to food security.

An East Dunbartonshire resident says: “This suggests they’ll be sitting together talking s***. So no difference there, then.”

Dodgy definition

THE Diary recently mused upon the matter of what exactly is a trebuchet. “It might be the name given to a group of three buchets,” suggests comedian Andy Cameron.

Ego ointment

“DUE to smugness I’ve been prescribed anti-gloating cream,” says reader Gavin Wright. “I can’t wait to rub it in.”