Tower of tales

THE DIARY was impressed when Brooklyn Beckham, son of David and Victoria, recently appeared on an American TV programme to showcase his sophisticated culinary skills… by rustling up a sandwich.

Exhibiting the sort of in-depth knowledge of food preparation that even Gordon Ramsay would be in awe of, Brooklyn proceeded to squish some edible stuff between two hunks of bread.

Maybe in a future cooking segment he’ll pour boiling water over a Pot Noodle.

Meanwhile, the Diary can boast that we too know how to prepare a scrummy dish, using classic ingredients from our archives.

We take one delicious Diary yarn, plonk it on top of another lip-smacking story, then keep piling until we have a tower of tasty tales, much like the one below.

Bon appetit!

Bus stop blues

THE driver of a Glasgow night bus once came to a halt rather far from his next stop, when he spotted a chap gently swaying on the pavement, and holding out his hand. The driver wished he hadn’t bothered when upon opening the doors, the chap merely inquired: “Huv ye goat a light?”

Schoolgirl scallywags

A NEWTON MEARNS reader watched two schoolgirls brush their teeth while walking down the Ayr Road after school. She was thinking to herself how good of them to be so careful with their molars after perhaps consuming sweets, when she then saw one of them stub a fag out on the pavement.

No laughing matter

A GLASGOW taxi driver picked up a passenger late at night from one of the city’s casinos. When the cabbie asked where to, the passenger, in an unfunny attempt to hint that he had lost a lot of money that night, replied: “Erskine Bridge.”

The driver, not cracking a smile, replied: “Cash up front.”

Broom averts doom

A READER was on a train to Inverness jam-packed with mainly beer-and-tent carrying music fans heading to the Rock Ness Festival. At Perth, an old fella struggled on with bags and, incongruously, a broom. The conductor stared at the broom, and the old chap told him: “Look, if we break down, the wife can use this to go for help.”

Love on the dole

THE course of true love doesn’t run smoothly. A reader was on a train going to Glasgow when a young chap sitting opposite told his pal: “She said she would think about going out with me if I got a job. So I told her, ‘What makes you think I would want to go out with you if I had a job?’”

Plastic not fantastic

ANOTHER tale of true lurv. “My new boyfriend’s a plastic surgeon,” bragged a thirty-something woman to her pals, as they sat in a Glasgow cocktail bar.

“Could you not get a real one?” one of her pals sweetly enquired.

The name game

“I SAW this cute young lady in the bar on Saturday night,” said a pub loudmouth. “So I went up and asked her what her name was. ‘Chantelle,’ she said. So I told her, ‘Come on, you can tell me.’”