AS a postscript to Halloween, George Dale in Beith tells us: “Knock at door late last night and I tried to ignore it as I thought it was teenage guisers, however it was quite persistent. Opened door to be faced with a bastion of the law, so I naturally said I thought that he had on a very convincing disguise. Turns out he is asking if we had heard or witnessed a local disturbance earlier on. Being unable to assist him he then set on his way with the parting words, ‘Before I go, do you wish a trick or treat then?”
AND who can relate to Kent Graham who says: “Time to take down all the cobwebs. Except the ones on the treadmill. Those are real.”
WAYWARD golf shots continued. Sandy Tuckerman recalls: “We were sitting in the clubhouse enjoying our after-round coffee when an irate neighbour to the course burst in clutching a golf ball which had flown over the fence at the second hole and dented his new Beamer. A member of our group examined the evidence and exonerated one of our more thrifty players by declaring, ‘That‚Äôs Davey in the clear ‚Äď it‚Äôs a brand new ball‚Äô. The householder’s mood was not improved when advised that perhaps he should have evaluated this risk before buying a house in a road called Fairway View.”
CAN be a bit tricky all this new technology. Brian Higgins confesses: “Recently whilst watching an old British movie on TV, I thought I recognised an actor from another film. Time to search on my trusty IMDB app on my smartphone. Unfortunately I pressed voice search by mistake. I reprimanded myself loudly, but before I had the chance to do a manual search, a list of results appeared.
“Who knew there were so many films related to ‘stupid old b*****d’!”
OUR picture yesterday of a T-shirt reminded Moira Campbell: “I saw a T-shirt someone was wearing that I tried in vain to get for my then teenage son. It said, “This looks good on a bedroom floor “.
A NEW phenomenon is the ability with Netflix and box sets to watch the entire series of a TV programme in just a couple of sittings. A Dunbartonshire reader says her pal told her: “I stubbornly binge-watched a show with seven seasons, even though I lost interest after season three. So pretty much like my first marriage.”
“IT’S November now,” a reader anxiously phones, “so is there any sign of a new Diary book for Christmas?” “Funny you should ask,” I tell him, as the new The Herald Diary, sub-titled No Moos is Good Moos ‚Äď there is an enchanting cow on the cover ‚Äď has just been published by Black & White Publishing and is still only ¬£9.99. It includes the story of the young relative at a funeral asking the priest before the coffin is taken into the chapel if he could place a picture of his late aunt’s dog on the casket. The priest gently squeezed his arm and told him: “It’s a coffin, son, no’ a sideboard.”
WHERE in my job description does it say I’m a target for all lame jokes? A colleague spots me and pounces with: “Was reading a book about the anatomy of a pig.” He pauses a couple of seconds before adding: “There was a twist in the tale.”