Noble sentiment

THE Labour Party appears to have rediscovered its radical soul, with fiery promises to abolish the House of Lords.

This will be welcome news for the riff-raff rabble, though the aristocrats amongst us may feel less delighted. Reader Ralph Kilbride was in a pub in Glasgow city centre when he heard an irate chap mutter to his pal: “They better no get rid o’ the Hoose o’ Lords before I get in, that’s all I’m sayin.”

His chum nodded sagely, then added: “Too right. The beer in there’s meant tae be dead cheap, an awe.”

Terrible tomes

A SINISTER yet silly literary discussion was overheard by Janet Roberts while visiting the Sauchiehall Street branch of Waterstones.

One young chap, presumably a uni scholar, inquired of his chum: “What’s the dodgiest book you’ve read?”

His chum sniggered in a secretive manner, inspiring the first chap to add in a shocked voice: “Mein Kampf?”

The chum shook his head. “Not even close, mate.”

Upon hearing this, the first chap’s face turned deathly pale, as he gasped: “Don’t tell me… the Harry Potter books.”

At which point the two blokes drifted out of earshot, meaning that, alas, Janet never discovered if this was the correct answer.

Munchable MSP

NEWTON Mearns reader Ian Hales quizzed his 15-year-old daughter about politics, in order to ascertain if she’s ready to vote constructively in a few years time.

“Name a local politician,” he said.

“Easy,” replied the youngster. “That coleslaw guy.”

After further interrogation, it transpired that she was referring to Jackson Carlaw, Eastwood MSP.

(For the sake of political balance, the Diary feels duty bound to point out that other vegetable-based side dishes are available.)

Face off

RECALLING her nightclubbing days, reader Tricia Walton remembers one gallant fellow saying to her at the bar: “Cheer up, love. You’ve got the sort of face that looks pure scunnered tae be hingin’ aff yer ears.”

He then asked Tricia to dance. Tricia, and her face, declined.

Culinary connection

AS Harry Kane and his compatriots prepare for their next World Cup match, many Scots are siding with their foes, the glorious, goal-scoring Gauls.

The father of reader Sandy Martin has even hung a French flag in his window.

“That’s a bit much,” said Sandy. “It’s not as though you’ve got any connection to France.”

“What do you mean?” countered dad. “I was the first person in my family to try garlic bread.”

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