To boldly go

THE Diary was sad to hear of the death of Nichelle Nichols, who played Lt Uhura in Star Trek. Reader Colin Williams met her at a signing in Glasgow’s Forbidden Planet, and recalls listening to two sci fi fans in front of him in the queue.

“This is like my own personal Moon landing,” enthused one chap.

“The Moon’s just a hunk of rubble in the sky,” scoffed the other chap, who then added in a disappointingly sexist fashion: “If Neil Armstrong had landed on Uhura I’d have been a lot more impressed.”

Footy faux pas

MORE on the less than chivalrous nature of chaps… Reader Rhona Gardner realised her boyfriend was conflicted when he muttered: “I don’t know if I’m patriotically Scottish for being annoyed that the English Lionesses won the Euros. Or maybe I’m a sexist pig for not supporting them.”

Says Rhona: “I told him to stop bothering about the footy. As everyone now knows, it’s not a game for the chaps.”

Tattie bye-bye

POETS are a tough breed, as anyone who follows their exploits knows. On social media Beth Cochrane from Edinburgh, who is indeed a versifier, proudly proclaims: “Nothing like a raw tattie scone, straight out the packet, to kick off the week.”

Andrew Blair, a fellow Auld Reekie rhymer, shows his respect for this epic show of valour by responding: “Move over Hemingway…”

Taking a pasting

“YOU can get drunk on toothpaste,” claims reader Oliver Harvey authoritatively. He then adds: “If you mix it with whisky, at any rate.”

Smarty-pants socks

WE continue discussing uses for the multipurpose Herald newspaper. Gordon Casely pedalled his bike from Laggan to Glen Roy, earning a soaking by the time he reached his B&B.

At the local shop he bought several Heralds, stuffing his shoes with the scrunched-up pages.

“By the time I pedalled into Fort Augustus the next day, my shoes were nearly dry,” says Gordon.

Even more impressive, his socks now had a commanding knowledge of topical news and sports.

Waverley warriors

LIKE a medieval bard fiddling with his lute (or should that be luting with his fiddle?) we continue telling tales of those fighting fellows garbed in shiny metal.

Gerry MacKenzie says two chaps wearing ancient armour once clanged off a train at Waverley Station. They made their way to the Scotsman Hotel, then asked for a room for two knights.

Picture this

“WHAT has five legs and three arms?” asks reader Nigel Harris. “My son’s rubbish drawing of a snake.”

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