Ravenous Chris O’Leary was devouring a sandwich during his lunch break at work.
A colleague sat down next to him, glanced at Chris’s lunch, and said approvingly: “That looks delicious.”
“Yeah, it is pretty good,” nodded Chris.
After an awkward pause, Chris’s colleague continued: “Maybe I should translate what I just said into plain English. What I meant was, ‘gonnie gie us a bite o’ yer sarnie.’”
(Chris - understandably outraged, and feeling far too peckish – refused to do so.)
Dictionary corner
A Diary correspondent is promoting a new word that she hopes will appear in an updated edition of the Oxford English Dictionary…
Liz Hogg was unpacking shopping bags, after visiting the local supermarket.
She was attempting to ram a cucumber into a convenient cranny, crevice or corner of the fridge, though was struggling to find any space for the unwieldy vegetable.
“It’s a bloomin’ awkward thing, a cucumber,” Liz muttered to her husband, who was standing nearby.
“Sure is,” agreed hubby. “You could say, it’s cucumbersome.”
Sign of the times
The current Labour government is keen on rolling out digital ID cards, though some people are against the idea, believing it would infringe on their civil rights.
There’s a fascinating debate to be had about such a serious matter, though the Diary tries to avoid serious matters as much as we can.
So let’s discuss men’s leisurewear instead… Strolling in Glasgow’s Argyle Street, reader Paul Richards spotted a chap wearing a T-Shirt with a picture of two hands emblazoned across its front.
Both hands were ‘flipping the bird’ as our American cousins might say. In other words, the hands were brandishing their middle fingers.
Underneath this rather aggressive image was written an equally strident statement: “This is the only digital ID you’ll get out of me.”
(Oops. Looks like we ended up discussing digital ID after all.)
Musical meh
Wet Wet Wet, that popular beat combo from Clydebank, have announced they are touring to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the release of their first album.
Alas, the original singer (and only member of the band who stands a chance of being recognised in a police line-up for ageing pop stars) isn’t in the current set up.
Folk on social media aren’t exactly delighted about this state of affairs.
“No Marti No Party,” grumbles one chap, while another says derisively and decisively: “Wet Wet Wet? More like Drip Drip Drip.”
End of the line
A grim grammatical gag from reader Robert Thomas: “Death is the period at the end of your sentience.”
The Diary is published twice a week on the Herald website - on Thursday and Saturday mornings. And on Saturdays in the print edition of The Herald. Do you have a tale to tell? Contact The Diary on 07375 137 824 or thediary@theherald.co.uk
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