Cold comfort

A DIARY yarn about a young fellow’s obsession with the family fridge reminds Brian Collie of his nephew arriving home early from uni.

When his mum turned up a while later, he piteously whimpered that he was starving, as there was no food in the fridge.

Mum checked for herself and confirmed that the fridge was, as usual, bursting with edibles.

She called her son to have a look, leading him to grump: “That’s no' food. That’s just ingredients.”


Stair lacks flair

OUR tale about duff decor reminds David Maxwell from Kilwinning of the official opening of the Hunterston B power station in the 1970s.

The deputy manager was planning the route round the site for visiting dignitaries.

During an inspection he realised sprucing-up was required, including the stairwell adjacent to a lift.

Days before the opening ceremony he noticed that the paint job in this area wasn’t finished, and being a large area, would take ages to complete.

As the visitors would only be standing at the bottom of the stairwell while waiting to board the lift, the manager decided to only paint up to the line of sight afforded from this point.

During the opening ceremony, the lift broke down and the visitors were marched up the staircase, where spick and span rapidly deteriorated into sloppy and spartan.

It stayed like that for another 10 years.


Who’s who

DOUBLE act Ant and Dec ended their popular Saturday Night Takeaway TV show on Saturday, though their success clearly doesn’t impress Scottish commentator Darren McGarvey, who  admits on social media: “I still don't know which one's Ant and which one's Dec.”


Talking bull

WE’RE discussing the study of the stars.

“I don't believe in astrology,” says Peter Wright from West Kilbride. “Apparently that's typical of us Taureans. I was also born under the sign of Pyrex. I was a test tube baby.”


Life’s a beach

THE Diary is bemoaning the peely-wally flesh tones of many Scottish folk, which has made our nation a sworn enemy of the sun, that dastardly blob of fire in the sky that is clearly out to get us.

Providing further evidence of this scandalous state of affairs is Ian Noble from Carstairs Village, who says: “I’m so pale that when I go on a beach holiday it takes me a week of sunbathing to get white.”


Silent but deadly

MEDICALLY-MINDED reader Laura Clarke points out: “The worst time to have a heart attack is during a game of charades.”