Border lines

WE proudly reacquaint you with a Diary revelation first aired in October. We do so because we subsequently met Nato's Scottish secretary-general, George Robertson, right, and he admitted using our story as an ice-breaker at a Pentagon pow-wow with US military chiefs, provoking heartening laughter with it.

Our initial tale concerned a squad of American troops, patrolling the Kuwait-Iraqi border and finding an Iraqi soldier's mangled body. Just up the road is a badly-injured American soldier. His compatriots rush to his aid and, cradling his bruised head, ask what happened. ''I met this armed Iraqi border guard,'' he gasps, ''I looked him in the eye and shouted: 'Saddam Hussein is a moronic, deceitful, lying piece of trash'. He shouted back: 'George W Bush is a moronic, deceitful, lying piece of trash, too'. We were standing

there shaking hands when the truck hit us.''

Sole survivors

SHOULD Messrs Bush and Blair succeed in starting their war on Iraq, it will at least allow British Army storemen to demonstrate their enduring mastery of battlefield logistics. So we're informed by an old Royal Navy sea-dog. He was minded to tell us of a diving expedition he once undertook off Oban, probing the barnacle-festooned innards of a sunken British Second World War convoy vessel. Diving enthusiasts can check the wreck's entire watery cargo against its official inventory, ticking off lorries, gun-carriers - and 10,000 left boots (one-legged infantrymen, for the wearing of).

Sex and the city

NATIVE sang-froid has been threatened by Auld Reekie's hedonistic extravaganza, Edinburgh's Hogmanay. Seeking tickets, two locals posted a frank internet message at Hogmanay.net on Christmas Day, headed ''Wanna sleep with my wife?'' Anyone with spare tickets was invited to exchange them for a visit ''to our place in the West End to rock in the New Year - naked!'' On Boxing Day, someone asked: ''Are you serious?'' The duo swiftly replied: ''We are not creepy losers. Just a sexy, good-looking couple looking for fun and to trade hot sex for tickets.'' Since then, nothing. Thank goodness. In Edinburgh, sex apparently remains something one's coal is delivered in.

Love hangover

READER Tom Rafferty has become uncharitably excited by news of Diana Ross's arrest in Tucson, Arizona, on suspicion of drunken driving. According to Tom, Diana was pulled over by an oddly affectionate highway patrol officer who told her: ''Stoned, love? You can't hurry, love. Do you know where you're going to? Stop in the name of love, or you'll be upside down.''

Another Fin mess

ANOTHER reader alerts us to a round-up of commercial radio's most inadvertently memorable moments of 2002. This exchange took place during a TalkSPORT football phone-in:

Caller: ''I'm a Hearts fan and, fair enough, Stephen Pressley gets a game for Scotland, but what I can't understand is why Berti Vogts never picks Antii Niemi.''

A bemused-sounding Arthur Albiston: ''Erm . . . sorry?''

Caller: ''Why does he never pick Antii Niemi for Scotland?''

Arthur Albiston: ''If you're serious, which I presume you are, it's because he's Finnish.''

Caller: ''What?''

Arthur Albiston: ''Antii Niemi is Finnish.''

By-now-enraged caller: ''He's no' Finnish! He's only 28!''

Feather brain

WE'VE grown used to Sir Elton John strutting about in various flamboyant outfits, but he'll soon be affecting a crazy pantomime rig in which he looks like he's riding on an ostrich's back.

This is Roddy Davidson's insistence, claiming he was alerted to the fact by Radio Scotland's books programme, Cover Stories. Says Roddy: ''Host Muriel Gray revealed the new look when she referred to great musical double acts - such as Elton John and Bernie Clifton.''

Chipping in

LISTLESSLY flicking through the festive period's arid TV output, Boyd Christie was transfixed by long-lost commentator Sid Waddell during Sky coverage of the world darts championship. ''Sid's hyperbolic gibbering makes Archie Macpherson seem as sage as Sophocles,'' says Boyd, fearful the garrulous Geordie will exhaust the world's stock of exclamation marks. Boyd's internet toils uncovered these historic examples of strained Waddellian rhetoric:

''The atmosphere is so tense, if Elvis walked in, with a portion of chips . . . you could hear the vinegar sizzle on them!''

''Keith Deller's not just an underdog, he's an underpuppy!''

''When Alexander of Macedonia was 33, he cried salt tears because there were no more worlds to conquer . . . Eric Bristow's only 27!''

''Steve Beaton! He's not Adonis

. . . he's THE donis!''