Chucking it

THE Diary is distraught to learn that our favourite athlete, the dynamic darter Luke Littler, is already considering retirement when he reaches the age of 27, which is only a decade away.

Luke’s already made plenty of lucre, so perhaps he’s calculated that by his late twenties he’ll be rich enough to drive around in a gold-plated Lamborghini shaped like one of his favourite arrows, while he lives in a dartboard-shaped house in Dartford (where else).

We’ll certainly miss his poise and elegance on the oche, and hope that he continues delighting fans as long as he has enough strength to chuck a pointy piece of metal at an unsuspecting wall.

Meanwhile, the Diary team are determined never to retire, even though we are all as decrepit as an American presidential candidate.

We made the decision to dodder on, well into our twilight years, because we are addicted to the stories our readers supply, such as the following classic yarns from our archives…

 

Driven to distraction

PENSIONERS love their free bus journeys.

A south-side reader was behind two capering pensioners who were standing at the open door of a bus allowing each other to get on the vehicle before the other one.

Eventually one gestured the other forward and said: “As I always say, age before beauty.”

Our reader heard the impatient bus driver mutter behind his screen: “And as I always say, would someone get on the bloody bus.”

 

Glasgow… for beginners

THE driver of an early evening bus on Maryhill Road announced to passengers that, because it was quiet, he would perform a guided tour for their illumination.

“Thae big widen things on your left,” he announced. “They’re trees. The green stuff on the grun is grass. See that fire station on your left - that’s where pole-dancing started in Glesca.”

Thus ended the brief but educational commentary.

 

Ooh-la-laugh

A YOUNG woman in Milngavie asked her dad what French toast was and he smilingly replied: “Just regular toast that smokes cigarettes and has a tiny moustache.”

 

Wacky wager

LIKE our hero, the majestic Luke Littler, the Diary loves a challenge, and we were sorely tempted to agree when a reader got in touch with us and said: “Want to bet that I can quit gambling?”

 

Filthy talk

AN ocean-going reader was once a third mate on a general cargo ship where a great deal of time was taken up trying to prevent pilfering during loading or discharging operations.

A friend of his working on sludge boats boasted that he never had that problem.

 

Beverage average

“I ACCIDENTALLY drank a stranger’s hot drink,” a reader once told us. “But it wasn’t really my cup of tea.”