Walk this way

THE Scottish nation prides itself on its musical genius, for while lesser countries use pipes for toilet plumbing, we have adapted them into a musical instrument.

Peter Wright from West Kilbride tells us of a tourist who was watching the World Pipe Band Championships, recently held at Glasgow Green, and who asked a local: "Why do they walk up and down when they're playing the bagpipes?"

"They're trying to get away from the music," was the reply.

Eat your Phil

THE Diary is making famous music acts edible.

Reader Kenny MacGregor imagines a delicious pizza munched by rock-loving fans of Phil Lynott and Co.

It would, of course, be called...Thin crust Lizzy.

Glesga gal?

MORE musical musings.

Comedy legend Andy Cameron has been thinking of the pop music greats of yesteryear, which leads him to ask: “If an iconic chanteuse of the swinging sixties, with peroxide blonde hair and dark eye mascara, had been born in Glasgow, would she have been known as Dusty Springburn?”

Food for thought

STROLLING along Argyle Street, Jane Shaw overheard a conversation between a young fellow and a young lady, who was clearly his girlfriend.

The chap was a bon vivant of some standing, for when his girlfriend asked where they should go for lunch, he immediately said with great authority: “McDonald’s.”

“Really?” she said, not persuaded. “Why d’you want to go there?”

She then waited for a reply, perhaps assuming her beau would entice her by venerating the crunchiness of the fries, or the munchable marvel that is the McNugget.

Instead, his index finger did the persuading, for it pointed directly ahead, as he said: “Cos it’s right here.”

“Fair enough,” shrugged the girlfriend, and into McDonald’s they marched.

Taking the biscuit

ON Scottish social media imaginative nicknames are being discussed, with one woman saying: “My man got his thumb amputated three years ago due to an accident at work. And now his mate calls him KIT KAT.”

No cold comfort

WE mentioned those wonderful contraptions that bring sweet ecstasy to the streets where we live… ice cream vans.

Reader Jim Scott says: “My pal’s dad used to tell us that the ice cream van only played a tune when it had run out of ice cream, so we didn’t need to bother leaving the house.”

Stroll on

CLOCKWATCHING Ewan Wilson says: “It’s a five minute walk from my house to the pub, but a 45 minute walk from the pub to my house. The difference is staggering.”

Do you have a tale to tell? Email thediary@theherald.co.uk