Wedded woes

WE’RE sad to hear that model Jerry Hall has divorced Rupert Murdoch after six years of marriage. Murdoch is, of course, a famous media magnate. We’re not entirely sure what a magnate is, but it’s probably similar to a magnet, which means that little chunks of metal, such as pound coins, are attracted to Murdoch’s person, going someway to explaining why he’s so rich.

Jerry has now put the kibosh on a chunk of that dosh, as she’ll allegedly be taking $305 million in the divorce settlement, along with at least three houses the couple own. (None of them being a high flat in Easterhouse, we’re guessing.)

Jerry is probably grief-stricken that her latest relationship has failed, and she’ll no doubt use some of those dollar bills that she has freshly accrued to wipe away the tears of anguish.

Another way she can cheer herself up is by reading the following classic tales from the Diary’s archives.

We can’t give our readers piles of cash. But at least we provide a mountain of laughs…

Hard to swallow

THE Bible reading in a Stirlingshire church was from Numbers, where the Israelites were told: "The Lord will give you meat, and you will eat it. You will not eat it for just one day, or two days, or five, 10 or 20 days, but for a whole month – until it comes out of your nostrils and you loathe it."

A parishioner leaned to the person next to him and whispered: “Sounds like the Atkins diet.”

Hollywood or bust

CERTAIN old Glasgow cinema habits die hard. The Grosvenor Cinema in the West End once put a message on Facebook: “Could the owner of this piece of clothing found in Screen 2 last night please put their sheepish hand up?”

The picture beneath showed a black bra.

Generous jester

THE Edinburgh Festival continues, and the Diary recalls when comedian Milton Jones had a show there, a few years back.

“I bought a Greek salad,” he told his audience. “It was the least I could do – he didn’t have any money.”

The name game

A MIDDLE-AGED Milngavie reader became concerned about how thin his hair was getting on the top of his head, which wasn’t helped by his teenage son nicknaming him "Baldy".

He later felt better when he gave his son a nickname back: "Hereditary".

Smarty-pants scrawl

CEREBRAL graffiti can be very witty. A reader once spotted in a London art gallery toilet the artfully arch "Dada wouldn’t buy me a Bauhaus".

Hot and bothered

A LONDON reader told us a chap in his local boozer announced: “Did you see that NASA discovered a planet with two suns? The Jocks will be livid. They don’t even have one.”