Victorian values

YAY! Love Island is back. If you haven’t yet dipped into this popular reality TV dating show, here’s what ensues…

A group of elegant young debutantes, accompanied by their elderly maiden aunts, are taken to meet some fine and upstanding gentlemen.

With a bow, the bashful gents hand over their formal letters of introduction, which are scrutinised by the ever-vigilant aunts, who then decide if courting can commence.

At least that’s how Love Island would play out if this were the Victorian era. Alas, in 2022 it involves skimpy clothing, fizzy champagne and the kind of slobbering that usually only takes place when a dog is introduced to a bowl of Pedigree Chum. For those who wish to escape the clutches of randy reality TV, the Diary is happy to provide an ideal alternative. If you yearn for old fashioned, classy entertainment, the following tip-top tales from our archives are bound to rock your horse and carriage…

Liquid launch

A THIRSTY Bearsden reader was on a ‘booze cruise’ out of Greenock with medical staff from the Royal Infirmary when he ordered a round of beers, whiskies and a G&T.

After waiting for an agonising 20 minutes, he was finally forced to ask what the delay was.

It was then explained to him that there had been problems heating the water for the tea.

Winning ways?

AN Ayrshire architect told his colleagues: “I was at the Royal Incorporation of Architects in Scotland’s inaugural awards night in Glasgow this week and came away with three awards.”

He added: “Didn’t win any, but it’ll be the last year they sit me near to the table where they keep the prizes.”

Back to black

AFTER the death of veteran Irish comic Frank Carson, a reader recalled standing behind Frank in the queue at Inverness airport when he was asked: “Where would you like to sit on board, Mr Carson?”

Frank replied: “As close to the black box as possible.”

Bird-brained badinage

A READER who was buying a sandwich heard a young chap tell his pal that his dad “races pigeons”.

“What, you mean he runs after them?” asked his pal.

“You do know you’re an idiot?” the first chap, not unreasonably, replied.

Postcode lottery

A WORKER in a Glasgow call centre was patiently taking down the address of a customer in Kirkintilloch, and asked him to repeat the postcode as he wasn’t sure if the customer had said ‘PQ’ or ‘BQ’.

He still wasn’t entirely sure of the postcode after the customer helpfully explained: “B for Bertie, Q for Cucumber.”

Fiery comment

AS barbeque smoke enveloped Glasgow’s suburbs, a Newton Mearns reader told us of a sticker he once saw on a car in Texas: ‘A backyard barbeque draws two things – flies and relatives.’