Tories tripping

THE Conservative Party has hit a stumbling block. Actually, it’s more of a chopping block. For the Tories have seen two by-elections turn into bye-bye elections this week.

The Diary feels sorry for the True Blue Brigade, for they haven’t done anything wrong. Every move until now has been a masterstroke.

Especially their decision to pick as leader a competent, honest chap who diligently worked his way up from humble origins.

Oops, sorry. That was Dick Whittington. We always get him and Boris Johnson confused. It’s never easy telling one pantomime character from another.

The Tories should at least be heartened by the following classic tales from our vaults, which prove that silly or eccentric behaviour can sometimes be handsomely rewarded.

Bag with bite

A SHOPPER in a cheap and cheerful Sauchiehall Street store saw the old lady next to him show a handbag she was considering purchasing to her pal, before telling her: “It’s just right. It’s got two outside pockets – wan fur ma phone, and wan fur ma teeth.”

“You never see that mentioned in the Mulberry adverts,” chuckled our shopper.

Habitual habits

A WEST END reader heard a chap in a trendy bar tell the girl he was talking to that he was going out for a ciggie. “Do you smoke a lot?” she enquired.

The chap, trying to be as positive as possible, replied: “Only when I drink.”

It was when she asked him how often he drank that his face clouded over, and he answered: “Most days.”

Attire or satire?

WHEN the sales were on, a reader overheard a trendy young chap in Glasgow city centre telling his girlfriend, who was holding a garish shirt for him to consider purchasing: “I don’t know. Are you sure people would know I was wearing it ironically?”

Mouthing off

AH, the banter at a Castlemilk exercise class…

“Whit’s that yer drinkin, Mary?” asked one of the participants.

“It’s lemonade. The cloudy stuff. It’s soor.”

“Oh, and ah thought yir sucked-in-mooth wis natural, tae,” was the devilish riposte.

Latin for beginners

AN exasperated reader told us about his office assistant who queried how to type an address. He glanced at it, then said the person had put their street number in Roman numerals.

“But my computer doesn’t have Roman numerals,” wailed the assistant.

Reflections on mortality

A MILNGAVIE reader liked the positive attitude of his 90-year-old mother who broke a mirror then told him: “Seven years’ bad luck, which at my age can only be good news.”