Taylor-made bond

FRIENDSHIPS can be fickle.

Only a few days ago SNP politicians and their Green counterparts were best of buddies, even making arrangements to visit the cinema together.

Humza wanted to see that new blockbuster about a nation’s messy separation, Civil War, while Patrick and Lorna hoped the GFT would be showing the John Ford classic How Green Was My Valley.

Unfortunately divisions grew between the two parties. Difficult questions were asked.

“Who’s buying the hot dogs and popcorn?” Humza demanded to know.

Patrick and Lorna grumped that they wanted a vegan alternative to hot dogs, and claimed that popping corn without its consent should be illegal.

It’s rumoured that Humza begged Taylor Swift to write one of her famous break-up songs about the deteriorating situation, to be called Green Boys are Mean Boys’.

Now the SNP and Greens positively loathe each other.

Luckily the Diary and its readers have a bond that can’t be so easily severed.

What unites us is our shared admiration for terrific tales, such as the following classic yarns from our archives…

 

Sick behaviour

A GLASGOW doctor told us he was in awe of his receptionist when she gave a patient phoning in for an appointment a time slot three days later.

The agitated patient replied: “Three days! Ah could be dead by then!”

“In that case,” the receptionist calmly said, “would someone be able to phone and cancel the appointment?”

 

Sounding off

IN Larkhall a reader spotted an elderly lady shouting across the busy main street to a pal who had difficulty making out what she was saying.

Eventually the pal crossed over the road and declared: “Ken, Wilma, am gettin’ that deef ah canny even lip read.”

 

Job jabber

ONE of our readers used to work in local government and was once persuaded to hire a particular gent who turned out to be a less than ideal employee.

Before his jotters were processed, he opted to leave, though our reader was surprised when he turned up shortly after to request a reference.

He left beaming, clutching a reference which read: “Mr X was employed under my direction for a period of four months. During this period he carried out his duties to his utmost satisfaction.”

 

Childish chatter

IT’S a daily task dodging the folk trying to sign you up for charities as they prowl the pedestrian precinct near the Concert Hall in Glasgow.

A reader spotted one such worker throwing her arms wide and asking a passing father with his small boy if he would “like to save a child today?”

He merely pointed to his son and told her: “You can start wi’ him. Good luck hen!” and carried on walking.

 

Biting humour

A READER once asked: “What do you call a French guy being mauled by a lion?” The answer, of course, is Claude.