Hairy Little Blighter ...

As time ticks by and we all get increasingly older, as a 45-yr old I am constantly reminded that time is not on my side. Any 65-yr old, however, will save my feelings by telling me that I am still full of youth yet a 5-yr old will have pronounced me dead in an instant; "Wow, you're reeeeeally old!"

Thanks, pip-squeek. You want to see your 6th birthday?

For those of you who do not know me, the hair on my head began it's downwards tumble once I reached the age of 19. A small parabolic disc began to appear and, since, a smaller one has joined just below the original. This gives anyone following me the impression that I have a rather neat figure '8' carved into the back of my nut. However, I am unable to see it myself without the use of a pair of mirrors, so it doesn't really bother me.

One of the worst things about sailing through nature's little voyage is (and this is merely a personal note) the amount of secondary body hair my system is producing. Yes, ladies, I am talking about nasal and ear hair. Being blessed with a hooter of over-average size means that it has as many drawbacks as it does advantages.

Advantage 1: air is free, get it down you.
Drawback 1: this city stinks, therefore I cop more than normal proboscis.
Advantage 2: I can get up to the 2nd knuckle of my index finger up either nostril.
Drawback 2: it produces random nasal hairs the size of cocktail sticks.

One of my pet-hates it the sight of other men with what appears to be an exploded feather pillow growing out of each ear. I cannot imagine what it does for their women folk. In wuieter moments I am often to be foundwith a finger exploring my own ears and nostrils (come all, we all do it). Great tufts of hair seem to be gathering within - but what has given rise to this sudden bumper harvest? Why, as you get older, do men start inwardly sprouting? A hair up my nose begin to tickle so it's a quick trip into the bathroom for an internal investigation. My poor hooter is put through a series of articulated bending exercises - the sort that gave rise to various horror masks for the film industry. The end of a hair pops out into the bright light and is immediately seized upon by a pair of tweezers. A good firm grip and a sharp tug is followed by a pain which makes one's eyes water and an outpouring of colourful language.

Look at the size of this thing! At an inch long and with of the same density as a tooth-pick, I scrutinise this freak of nature with intense fascination and wonderment. What's happening to me? Out with the torch and a few more nose bending manoeuvres later and I am met with a vision that could put the fear of whatsit up any man. It looks like an Amazon jungle spiders web up there - all that's missing are the inhabitants. My ears seem to be in league with my nose as they produce another form of follicle; light blond hairs in a neat display fit for any 'Chelsea Flower Show' arrangement.

To save my embarassment, I believe that I have found an answer; a compact, battery operated trimmer. Three years ago I spent a week in Germany filming a Christmas Special for a business programme (no dancing girls or top totty in this show). Between takes I would wander around the city of Nürnberg when stumbled across a large chemist's close to the main square. I had no idea what 'nasal hair trimmer' was in German, so spent a while cruising the electronic goods shelf. In a small wicker bin I found my €2 Holy Grail. Powered by a single AA battery this thing grinds, plucks and gorges itself senseless on nature's little thatch. The only marking I can find on it are the initials 'AFK' and have come to the conclusion that they stand for 'A F**king Kurse'.

Following a short search on the interweb, I've have tracked them down; AFK are a German outfit who pride themselves in precise grooming tools. Their market stretches from their homeland to Denmark, Holland and Belgium. Three years later this hungry little beast is still working it's way inwards.

I am now looking at taking over the French distribution of this amazing motorised muncher. All those in need, drop me a line. But when it finally packs up, I may well be investing in blowtorch technology ...

Stu