• Waxing lyrically

BBC daytime soap opera, Doctors, broadcast its final episode this week, after 24 years on the box.

In other words, it was taken off life-support and allowed to drift into the telly afterlife, where it will join other long-deceased dramas, including Grange Hill, Eldorado and Doctor Who.

(Oops, sorry. Doc Who is still staggering onwards, like a zombie Time Lord who refuses to swap his bijou TARDIS for an even snugger-fitting coffin.)

The Diary will miss Doctors and its thrilling storylines, including a genuine nail-biting final episode, where a heroic medic managed to clean out the wax from a patient’s ears.

Doctors might be in the dumpster, but luckily our readers can still enjoy ripping yarns in the Diary every week, including the following classic tales from our archives…

  • Talking balls

The sayings of the late, great footy manger, John Lambie, are the stuff of folklore.

When John was gaffer of Partick Thistle he was asked on the radio about an excellent winning goal.

“Aye, the boy took it well,” he said. “It was a textile finish.”

  • Liar, liar

The Diary has reported some very tall tales about the polis on Mull.

The following is extremely far-fetched and comes into the category of stories we wish had a shred of truth.

The Hebridean cops were interrogating a suspect. They placed a metal colander on his head and attached wires from it to the photocopier.

The suspect was then asked various questions, and every so often, a police officer pressed the button and the copier issues a sheet of paper with the words ‘He’s lying.’ (This message having been carefully placed in the copier.)

According to the legend, the suspect, faced with this incontrovertible evidence, confessed.)

  • Gone to putt

In one of those curious conversations that take place at a public bar, a chap in a golf polo-neck sweater told his drinking companion: “My doctor says I can’t play golf.”

His pal looked at him with concern, and said: “What? Did he discover you had some terrible ailment when he examined you?”

“No,” replied his confused companion. “I played a round of golf with him.”

  • Drip-dripping dosh

Dundee Sheriff Court was dealing with a case of a chap under arrest.

He was fined £400 and his solicitor told the sheriff that his client could pay the fine at £2.50 a fortnight.

With a baleful gaze, the good sheriff told him: “I am not collecting for a catalogue,” and upped the payments to £10.

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  • Naughty name

More criminal activities.

The Aberdeen Press and Journal once reported that someone called Gawain Steel had been found guilty at Fort William Sheriff Court of stealing booze from his parents’ holiday home.

Perhaps the Diary was a tad harsh when it wondered if it might have been the parents fault for calling their son Gawain Steel…