Lisa and I are planning another date night tonight, which is remarkable, firstly because she answered 'd' to one of the Relate questions, and secondly because I have the kind of moustache which makes the chances of female company unlikely.

But the good news is that I've stepped up the fundraising efforts today with the acquisition of a stylish charity collecting box. I requested it free from the Movember website last week, and it arrived in the post at lunchtime today, so I've stuck it in the department's kitchen at work.

You can't miss it, because not only is it twice the size I was expecting (my moustache is the same), but it features a brooding moustachioed model looking like a cross between Brad Pitt and Nick Cave, attempting to prove that facial hair can be sexy by luring would-be sponsors to the box with his smouldering good looks. Meaning that people are unlikely to associate it with me.

But I've countered that problem by taking a leaf out of the busker's book and cunningly putting all my loose change into the box (nothing bigger than a 10p, obviously) so that anyone giving it a casual shake will believe the donations are rolling in, and feel more inclined to follow suit. It was a plan with no drawbacks. Until I picked up the box, and the foldable bottom collapsed. My colleague had to patch it up with sellotape.

But despite those teething problems, I fully expect to be filling the fundraising hole left by Sir Jimmy Saville within a matter of days. On the downside, the colleague who said I looked French on Tuesday, now thinks I look like Mr Pastry...


I know facial hair makes you look older, but this is getting ridiculous.