Some people never learn

Certainly not me. Being the world's greatest billy bunter and a blithering idiot are not mutually exclusive. After a particularly egregious example of 'fat fingering'(hitting the wrong button on the computer and chucking away 9k) the lid came off and I proceeded to do me tonsils, me conkers, me niagaras, me absolutes, and finally me wibblies, all in double-quick time. I am now abject and even more grumpy than usual. Gambling and playing poker when puddled has cost me brewsters over the years, yet I persist. It is either arrogance or masochism, I haven't figured out which.

Even the return of Samantha, back after her month-long(!) skiing holiday in the Swiss alps has not lifted the gloom. Apparently, she received quite a bit of attention, and I can well understand it. The sight of this golden vision gliding elegantly down the slopes, and then wafting into the VIP bar, and unleashing a coruscating smile that serves to bring into focus her glowing skin, gently burnished by the alpine sun, must have reduced the assembled troop of Eurotrash poseurs and sleazebags to gibbering wrecks.

Actually, even though she is looking as pulchritudinous as ever, she is somehow a tad less jolly, even a bit careworn. What is it that irks her? Maybe re-aquainting herself with the jabbering baboons in here has served to remind her of the fact that she is associating with her social and intellectual inferiors? Because, By Jove, she is. Or is it something more deep-seated? Maybe the constant hassle and attention from every male, and spiteful jealousy from every woman is giving her the pip? It must be tiresome holding a conversation with someone knowing that the person you are speaking to is only thinking of rogering you or scratching your eyes out.

If this is the case, I hope she sees this and comes to me for advice. I too used to be the focus of unwanted attention; enough to upset the balance of my mind. This may seem like the ultimate male fantasy, being pursued by hordes of women not interested in 'talking', 'love', 'commitment',or 'respect', but who just want to gratify every sexual desire you can think of, and some you hadn't. At first, one thinks, Jeepers! this is a giggle, but it soon loses its lustre. It is actually soul-destroying, and leaves one feeling empty, worthless, uninteresting, a mere plaything, used as a sexual acrobat, casually discarded after 'performance', similar to a champion racehorse that is retired to stud and wheeled out thrice-daily to service a panting mare.

Eventually, things became so bad that I resolved to do something about it, and it was a drastic measure, one that Samantha probably wouldn't be able to accept. I decided to force people to judge me for what I am, not what I look like. I chose plastic surgery. And I had the lot. Lipo-injection, a facedrop, nose-flattening, hair removal, tooth-blackening, you name it. The change was dramatic. I was unrecognisable(handy for avoiding my creditors). People started ignoring me rather than perving; no more ogling, groping, staring or unsolicited attention. I felt valued, enthused; I have found myself. I am comfortable with who I am, and happy in my own skin.