Weighty problem

WE recently mentioned the obesity epidemic besieging the UK. Many of our readers probably missed this particular Diary comment as it was obscured from their vision by the deep-fried carcass of a Blue Whale, plus six slices of chocolate cake, they happened to be nibbling as a light breakfast snack.

Luckily David Donaldson did notice our article, and he has an excellent suggestion for combating this crises in corpulency.

“I have the perfect candidate for the job of Obesity Overlord, as he’s already in Scotland,” says David.

He believes the job should go to the medical and public health science director at Public Health Scotland, whose name is… Dr Nick Phin.

Dumb and dumber

IN an irritated mood, reader Jim Hamilton says: “My tolerance for idiots is extremely low, nowadays. I used to have some immunity built up, but obviously there's a new strain out there.”

Monkeying around

CONTINUING with the subject of contagion. Monkeypox is no laughing matter, and is something our leaders should respond to with practical urgency. Though the rest of us are mostly exhausted by the arrival of Plague – Part II. (Especially since everyone hated the first instalment of the franchise.)

Edinburgh novelist Jenny Colgan no doubt speaks for many when she groans with mordant humour: “I am absolutely refusing to learn a damn thing about Monkeypox, I no longer have the bandwidth. Do you grow a tail, because that would be cool. No, DON’T TELL ME.”

Price is right

ENTREPRENEURIAL reader Alison Burns is launching a new business. “I’m providing free contradictions for only £1,” she says.

Cold comfort

LOVE is a many splendoured thing. And when we say splendoured we, of course, mean splintered. For a countless number of shards and jagged edges are created when Cupid gleefully lobs a grenade between an unsuspecting man and woman. (Don’t fall for the propaganda. The pesky wee fella never uses a bow and arrow.)

Roddy Young tells us that when he awoke on a recent morning there was a Post-it Note from his girlfriend attached to the fridge, stating: "This isn't working, goodbye."

“When I opened the fridge,” adds Roddy, “it was working fine... strange girl.”

Final front tyre

OUR correspondents continue lopping letters from movie titles, thus devising better pictures that could have been filmed.

Alasdair Sinclair suggests a thrilling saga about burly chaps repairing a road.

It would be titled … Tar Trek.

Hospital hijinks

“I TRIED playing hide and seek in a hospital,” says reader George Nevill. “But I was discovered in the ICU.”