A thriller?

WHEN it comes to cultural clout, the Diary can’t be topped. Perhaps a gala performance of Shakespearian monologues, recited by Tyson Fury, would come close. But little else.

To prove our rarefied position in the creative community, we are now going to discuss, for the second time, Love Island, the dating show for Blighty’s shy and retiring youth.

One of this year’s contestants is Gemma Owen, daughter of former England footy star, Michael.

Gemma is an outdoorsy gal, who competes in dressage, which she describes as “horse dancing”.

Reader Deborah Ryan’s hubby, watching Love Island with the missus, was impressed by this admission.

“I wonder if she can make a horse do the Michael Jackson moonwalk?” he mused aloud.

Hot and bothered

A DISCUSSION about synthetic materials in the Diary inspires Russell Smith from Largs to ask: “If a plastic surgeon stood too close to a fire, is there a chance he might melt?”

Grim glug

A LIQUID laugh from reader Tom Barton who asks, “What do you call a sad cup of coffee?”

The answer is, of course: “Depresso.”

Fare enough?

WE recently revealed that robots have been built to amorously console lonely, lusty chaps. Furthermore, these metallic mademoiselles have Glasgow accents.

Why? Who knows. Though it’s true that nothing is more awash with romantic possibility than the Glesga vernacular screeched at high volume.

With this in mind, our readers are devising phrases for the robots to use.

Lesley McAlpine suggests the roar of the conductress on the old Glasgow trams could be profitably adapted, leading the lurv machines to yelp: “Come oan, get aff.”

Bum deal

A HERALD scribbler recently mentioned a Birmingham statue that brazen Brummies have dubbed "The Floozie in the Jacuzzi". Reader Eric Begbie notes that Scots are equally creative.

He points out that there’s a statue in Clackmannanshire of a naked chap. Officially referred to as "Air Spirit", it has been given a more grounded name by locals. With his rugged buttocks on display, they call him "The A**e on the Carse’.

Fleeting youth

ON an Edinburgh train, reader Harvey Brown overheard a boy, aged about four, say to his mother: “Mum, do I get to be a baby again?”

Perhaps realising this would be the first disappointment amongst many she would have to impart, mum tenderly replied: “No, love. You only get one shot at being a baby.”

Blending in

“MY fruit and veg business went into liquidation,” sighs reader Jeremy Wood. “So now I sell smoothies.”

Off the rails

WORD reaches us that a cow – clearly seeking more thrills and high-adventure than can be experienced in your average meadow – was spotted on the Pollokshaws West train platform, contentedly licking his own reflection in the glass-fronted shelter. (Apparently humans do this, too, occasionally.)

The folk at ScotRail have suggested that the migrating moo was probably waiting on the next train to Cowdenbeef.

Material witness

ON a Shawlands bus, reader Mary Swain overheard the conversation between a tetchy mother and her son, who was aged about 12, and endlessly asking questions.

At one point the lad said: “Mum, why do motorcyclists wear leather?"

With a sardonic roll of her eye, the mother replied: "Because chiffon wrinkles too easily."

Driven to distraction

WAITING for a taxi opposite Glasgow’s Central Station, reader Neil Barrett spotted an elderly, well-dressed lady being helped into the vehicle at the front of the queue by the cabby.

While doing so, he said to his passenger: “Let me guess. Ye want a ride tae the Bar-L tae visit a' yer accomplices?”

The lady was not amused. “Newton Mearns, please,” she firmly corrected.

There’s the rub

A PAL of reader Jim Morrison went for a massage, then later complained that he wouldn’t be returning for another.

“Why?” enquired Jim.

“The guy just rubbed me up the wrong way,” said his pal.

Negative comment

MUSIC-LOVING reader Doreen Robertson says: “Hey Jude is surprisingly uplifting for a song that says ‘Na’ nearly 200 times.”

The name game

YET again we turn to the fascinating topic of nominative determinism, those occasions when a person’s name provides their fate.

Doug Maughan was delighted to discover that Radio 4’s The Food Programme is presented by a chap whose mouth-wateringly munchable moniker is Dan Saladino.

Questionable behaviour

OUR tale about a parent pestered by a child reminds Peter Mackay from Kincraig of travelling on a Paisley train and witnessing a mother being assailed by a ceaseless flow of questions, asked by her inquisitive young son.

Attempting to halt the little fella in his tracks, mum turned to son and said: “Curiosity killed the cat.”

There was a pause while the child thought deeply about this, then he said: “What did the cat want to know?”

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