Horsing around

IT’S the Grand National this afternoon, and if you’re reading this column early enough, we’ve a great tip.

We’re pretty sure a horse will win. Probably with a little bloke perched on top.

It usually is, of course. Which makes the spectacle a tad dull.

The Diary believes the National would be far more thrilling if it took a tip from the Formula One playbook and allowed highly skilled mechanics to constantly improve the horses, much like the souped-up cars driven by the likes of Lewis Hamilton.

The purely ornamental horse tail could be replaced by a propellor, for instance, with four skateboards glued to the hoofs.

The Diary, unlike your average thoroughbred horse, doesn’t need improving.

As the following classic tales from our archives prove, we’re already pretty darned perfect.

That’s why you can always bet on the Diary for top-notch entertainment, and you’ll be a winner every time…

 

Phone-y identity

HOW to deal with cold callers on the phone.

Gus Furrie in East Kilbride once told us he answered one such call, and when the caller asked for Mr Furrie, quickly said he wasn’t in.

Undeterred, the caller asked who he was speaking to. Gus replied: “Just a burglar who’s stealing from the house" and hung up.

Six weeks later he answered the phone, and again said to the unknown caller that Mr Furrie wasn’t in.

“You must be the burglar then,” said the chap on the phone.

 

Outdoor entertainment

WE were told of two thirsty cyclists who arrived at an isolated boozer in Donegal, and were dismayed when the landlord informed them the pub wouldn’t be open for an hour.

He suggested they sit on the grass outside as it was a warm day, then added: “And would you be wanting a drink while you’re waiting?”

 

Paint potty decoration

ROYAL visits are splendid affairs. At least that’s how they appear at first glance…

Whenever a regal party arrived at the former Riverside railway station to launch a ship at John Brown’s yard, the palings, which were visible from the train, were painted.

The other side of the fence, invisible to the guests, was left dirty and unpainted.

 

Well-bread dignitary

ROYAL visits, continued. A Bonnyrigg reader told us: “Years ago av of Norway was on a state visit to Edinburgh and the local schools were getting the afternoon off to see the procession. My mother worked as a dinner lady, and one of the children told her they were very excited because they were going to see King Half-loaf.”

 

Bottling it

A SHAMEFUL tale.

“I’ve been hitting the bottle hard recently,” a reader admitted, adding: “Still can’t get that last bit of ketchup out, though.”