THE Diary is the preferred reading material of the Scottish cognoscenti. Politicians, celebrities and the bohemian artistic community all start their day by gleaning the news from this very column.
What is less well known is that the animal kingdom also turns to us for its current affairs fix. Is this because the Diary’s final resting place is the bottom of budgie cages and cat litter trays?
Though it’s also because our team of scribes regularly write about fuzzy critters.
For instance, we recently mentioned that a cow was spotted on the Pollokshaws West train platform, a devil-may-care glint in its eye, as it boldly made its pilgrimage to territories unknown.
The folk at ScotRail informed us that the animal’s restless pioneer spirit meant it was probably travelling to Cowdenbeef.
Dougie Sutherland from Milngavie disagrees, and says: “The heifer was obviously heading for Coocaddens.”
FOR years the Diary has been trying to persuade our more astute readers that the earth isn’t flat. Now Harthill-born stage mind reader Colin Cloud has undermined our good work, by stating: “I’m just gonna put this out there, and I’m really not trying to start anything… what if the universe is flat?”
MUSIC loving reader Doreen Robertson says: “Hey Jude is surprisingly uplifting for a song that says ‘Na’ nearly 200 times.”
The name game
YET again we turn to the fascinating topic of nominative determinism, those occasions when a person’s name provides their fate.
Doug Maughan was delighted to discover that Radio 4’s ‘The Food Programme’ is presented by a chap whose mouth-wateringly munchable moniker is… Dan Saladino.
A DIARY tale about a parent pestered by a child reminds Peter Mackay from Kincraig of travelling on a Paisley train and witnessing a mother being assailed by a ceaseless flow of questions, asked by her inquisitive young son.
Attempting to halt the little fella in his tracks, mum turned to son and said: “Curiosity killed the cat.”
There was a pause while the child thought deeply about this, then he said: “What did the cat want to know?”
HAVING discovered that robots with Glasgow accents have been built for use in the boudoir, we’re now figuring out what these amorous automatons should be programmed to say. Russell Smith from Largs suggests: “You press my button and turn me on, Romeo.”
CHILLED-OUT reader Kim Whalen tells us: “A rolled out yoga mat, some lit incense and low lighting are all signs of premeditation.”