Living doll

THE Diary remembers with nostalgic fondness the genteel old days of the 1980s, when "doing the robot" was merely an innocent attempt at a dance move in Cleopatra’s nightclub in Glasgow.

The phrase has now taken on more bawdy connotations, for we find ourselves reaching for the smelling salts upon being informed that humanised versions of robots, blonde of hair and blank of face, are to be sold as life-partners for the more desperate sort of male suitor.

These amorous automatons will be put to hard labour in the boudoir. More disturbingly, it seems they have been fitted with Glasgow accents.

Mechanically-inclined reader David Donaldson says: “What I want to find out is does she say ‘Dae youse come here often?’ And does she draw the line by saying ‘Gonnae no dae that?’”

Jumble bumble

CONVIVIAL Diary correspondent Finlay Buchanan was at a Jubilee street party where attendees were invited to participate in a quiz featuring regal anagrams. One jumbled-up phrase was "alloys ear".

A triumphant Finlay was just about to shout out the words "loyal a**e", when a fellow team member spoiled his fun by pointing out that the correct answer was "royal seal".

Imprint of time

LAWYERS, it seems, do not mature like fine wine. For Glasgow solicitor Matthew Berlow says: “You know you’re old when you wear your glasses on your head for an hour and the dents on your skull last for a week.”

Cutting comment

A READER boasted of guzzling whisky before recycling it as feed for his grass. This inspires Gordon Fisher from Stewarton to pass on a tip for any lazy gardeners out there.

“I pour a bottle of (cheap) whisky over my lawn,” he says, “thus ensuring it’s half-cut.”

Fashion or filth?

SEARCHING for a sun hat to buy his wife on eBay, David Donaldson stumbled upon a washed denim item which seemed to fit the bill. When he realised that the Chinese brand name was Pootest, he became even more resolute about a purchase.

“Shame they don't do it in brown,” adds David.

Hot topic

GLASGOW comedy actor Johnny Mac is feeling seasonal. “I love Scottish summer,” he sighs. “It’s my favourite weekend of the year.”

Camera obscure

CURIOUS reader Gloria Fenwick gets in touch to say: “I’ve been wondering if people are born with a photographic memory, or do they take time to develop?”

Knowing the drill

GLASGOW screenwriter Michael Lee Richardson visited the dentist and discovered an Adam Sandler movie, Grown Ups, was playing in the waiting room. “Presumably to make a filling seem less bad by comparison,” concludes Michael.

Bum deal

WE mentioned a Chinese clothing brand called Pootest who make headwear. David Donaldson, who proudly bought a hat from the firm, says: “The big advantage of a Pootest sun hat is that it can help prevent both melanoma AND bowel cancer. They should be available on prescription from NHS Scotland.”

Lot of bottle

“I BOUGHT a 12-year-old whisky the other day,” says reader Ralph Kent. “His parents weren’t very happy.”

All at sea

MANY years ago reader Bill Matthews presided over a hotel bar where a local estate worker was heard to announce that his landed gentry bosses were off on a PLO Cruise.

“No doubt Yasser Arafat was at the helm,” says Bill.

Rest his sole

A TRAGIC tale. Reader Lisa Morton gets in touch to say: “I was very sad to hear that the Dutch inventor of inflatable shoes has popped his clogs.”

Specs appeal

BORED reader Jane Griffin tried to persuade her husband to accompany her to the cinema to see Tom Cruise blasted into the skies in his latest flick, Top Gun: Maverick.

Hubby merely shrugged and resolutely refused to shift his bahookie from its comfortable resting place on the sofa.

“I’ve seen it all before,” he muttered. “Is it not just Those Magnificent Men In Their Flying Machines plus some grinning eejit in aviator specs?”

Small-time sorceress

CRIME writer Helen Fields next novel, The Last Girl to Die, published in September, is set on the Isle of Mull.

Researching the book, she discovered a number of legends connected to the isle, including one about a local witch, Doideag, said to be more powerful than a clan chief, and responsible for the sinking of a Spanish galleon.

Which sounds impressive. Less impressive is the fact that Doideag means "Little Frizzle", which is a disappointing name for a mighty sorceress.

Surely with all that power she could have called herself Big Frizzle, or even Medium-Sized Frizzle.

That’s the problem with Scottish witches. Too darned modest.

Slumber number

LETHARGIC reader Martha Ross says: “Having a little nap on the sofa before heading to bed is called a snors d’oeuvre.”

Blending in

WE mentioned that reader Bill Matthews once presided over a hotel bar where the locals came out with garbled gab after a guid gargle.

On one occasion a worker, whose employer was experiencing financial difficulties, morosely informed his fellow tipplers that the liquidisers had arrived at the factory.

Brandishing Kenwood blenders, no doubt.

Makes scents

SCIENTIFICALLY-TRAINED reader Bob Garnett says: “Did you know that candle flame smells like burnt nose hair?”

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