Pea shooter
WE’RE discussing the fine dining habits of the Scottish nation.
Reader John Gilligan tells us of a grand event held at the Albany Hotel, Glasgow’s swankiest hotspot in the 1960s and 70s.
Dinner was being served, silver service of course.
A rather snooty gent declared in a brusque and assertive manner to the wee wumman serving that he didn’t want peas, thank you.
Without breaking stride she plopped a pile of peas on his plate and declared: “Peas ur compulsory.”
Order of boot
A DIARY yarn about the perils of socialising reminds Jim Pairman of an observation from the late Scottish folk singer Hamish Imlach.
Hamish, a famously convivial fella, reckoned he was allergic to leather because every time he woke up in bed with his boots on he had a hell of a headache…
Financial crash
OPTIMISTIC reader Linda Mumford visited a fortune teller who predicted a large amount of money would rapidly be coming her way.
When she returned home she excitedly informed her husband.
From behind his newspaper he said: “Sounds like you’re about to be run down by a security truck.”
Musical/menu mash-up
FOR no especially good reason (other than it’s oodles of fun) we’re combining yummy foods with legendary music acts.
Gordon McRae suggests blending Liverpool’s most famous troubadours with a tasty treat from Turkey, thus creating a new version of a late-night snack… Lady Ma-doner kebab.
The high life
NEWSHOUND David Donaldson was reading a report about thieves scaling an eight thousand-foot peak in the Alps in order to nab cash from a climbing club’s collection box.
Says an outraged David: “Surely this can only be described as the height of cupidity?”
Beggar’s belief
THE other day Joyce Clayton was in Glasgow city centre when she spotted a kindly old lady handing some spare change to a beggar.
The elderly woman was also rather chatty. As she slipped the coins into the raggedy fellow’s hand, she said: “Are you really struggling, son?”
To which the beggar, perhaps a tad ungratefully, replied: “Naw, luv. I’m savin’ up for a yacht.”
Half-baked mystery
RAVENOUS Roddy Young scarpered off to his local bakery to buy a sugary snack, though when he got there he was confronted by a curious conundrum.
“How come all your cakes are £2, but that one is £3?" queried Roddy.
"Ah," said the baker, "that's Madeira cake."
Tummy trouble
“NOBODY mentions having caterpillars in their stomach,” notes reader Anna Walker. “So how come they end up with butterflies?”
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