Ill with pill

A DIARY tale about the pain and awkwardness that can occur when a ChapStick and a glue stick are confused reminds reader Jim Scott of an American colleague in Houston who came into work one day looking absolutely drained and ready to fall asleep.

Asked if he was okay, he uttered the following despairing words: "Don't get your laxatives and sleeping pills mixed up."


Remotely dangerous

THE teenage son of reader Hilary Evans spent a recent constructive weekend wedged in a sofa in front of the telly, watching Netflix dramas and numerous reality TV shows.

When Sunday evening arrived he whimpered piteously: “My thumb is sore.”

It transpired that flicking the buttons on the remote control had brought about this tragic state of affairs.

Says Hilary: “I told him to take up a much less dangerous pastime where he is unlikely to get hurt, such as mountaineering.”


Baffling brew

THE grandson of Harry Young from Newton Mearns recently became a barista, even though Harry was sort of hoping that he would aim slightly higher, and become a barrister.

However, there are some perks to the percolating gig.

Harry’s grandson taught him all the fancy-schmancy names for the various coffees.

With this knowledge digested, our reader decided to test the coffee shop staff, and asked for a concoction called a Scoticano.

“I was given a can of Irn-Bru,” says Harry.


Wheely intriguing theory

KEEN student of engineering, Colin Morrison, gets in touch to explain: “The reason a bicycle can’t stand unaided is that it is two-tyred.”


What the Dickens

NOTING that our cultured readers are equal parts bibliophile and bon vivant, we’re combining those passions by devising edible books.

Showing a clear preference for a certain famous author of the Victorian era, Stephen Coyne impresses us with several suggestions: Crepe Expectations, Martin Guzzlewit and Barnaby Fudge.


Rude awakening

ROCKET science is a notoriously difficult discipline to master, as one of our readers discovered.

Robert Menzies admits he was a tad startled while watching the TV news, when he learned that a crude spacecraft had been launched to dock with the International Space Station.

Could this be a rocket ship with offensive graffiti sprayed on its sides, perhaps?

Thankfully, the answer to the above question proved to be a definitive “No”, for Robert later discovered it was actually a crewed spacecraft.

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Stropping about flopping

DISPIRITED reader Paula Smallwood gets in touch to inform us: “I’ve given up trying to tell people that I’m not a quitter.”