In the pink

WORKING in Peterhead years ago, George Dale was at a site doing roof repairs. There was a gulls’ nest nearby, and the mummy and daddy bird were obviously agitated by our reader’s presence, though they never directly approached him.

However, George became aware of increasingly frequent, increasingly large pink deposits of goo landing ever closer to him.

Staring at the strangely coloured blobs, he was overcome by a mixture of curiosity about the birds’ diet and concerns that the feathered fiends were attempting to use him as an outdoor commode.

His suspicions shifted when he glanced at the guttering below and spotted three fellow workmen.

The rascally chaps were entertaining themselves by flicking spoonfuls of strawberry yoghurt in George’s direction.

Mind your language

ANOTHER linguistic adventure involving Scots abroad. In the 1960s, reader Ally McLaws went on a family holiday to France. Ally’s sibling, Marion, was eager to venture out on her own to shop for the daily crusty loaf, so her dad schooled her in the native tongue.

He also advised that if the shopkeeper asked any follow-up questions, she should respond: “Je ne dinae ken pas.”

This she did, though the friendly shopkeeper warmed to her, anyway.

Fantasy fiction

WE recently mentioned that our glorious leader Nicola Sturgeon is an avid reader of novels. Russell Smith from Largs wonders what fiction her rival commander-in-chief from the Alba Party peruses.

Witnessing Mr Salmond’s ebullient swagger and preening confidence on the campaign trail, he suggests: Alex in Wonderland.

Fast food

A TERRIFYING thought from reader Julie Walton: “If no one can catch the Gingerbread Man, then no one can escape him either…”

(Let’s just hope Ginger doesn’t go nuts.)

Just the ticket

WITH lockdown easing, Jason Cantrell found himself on a train to Glasgow Central, along with a conductor asking to see tickets. Our reader hasn’t witnessed such commercial activity on a train for months.

A chap in a nearby seat was equally astonished by the exotic occurrence, and chuckled dryly to the conductor: “So yer wantin’ us tae pay noo? Wit ever next?”

Scot… or not

WE continue to celebrate our nation’s worldwide importance. Gordon Casely was once in Wilmington, California, when he was asked where he came from.

“Scotland,” Gordon proudly replied.

“Is that in England?” came the response.

Further conversation ensued, with the Wilmington native explaining most knowledgably: “You sound Irish.”

Jarring thought

INSTEAD of a swear jar, reader Tim Blunden has a negativity jar. “When I have a pessimistic thought I put a pound in it,” he says. “It's half empty.”