It has therefore sent me a 'VIP Passport' entitling me to free 'medical aesthetics' for a whole year.

This is probably worth thousands of pounds, and I feel I should be grateful.

After all, money is now no object to 'anti-ageing peels'; my wish to have cells deep within my skin stimulated to promote collagen and elastin production and help eliminate fine lines and wrinkles for a firmer, smoother and more radiant appearance has been granted.

I have always wanted my face photorejuvenated, and now I can do just that.

The ageing effects of sun damage that are so evident on my visage will now be reduced, thanks to a 'handpiece' that "emits pulses of light into the skin".

I assume the process is rather more sophisticated than I imagine (I imagine someone flashing a torch at me).

I have all these things, yet am not content. What more could I have? Ah, yes: microdermabrasion. Of course! My dead, outermost layer of skin (dead? How much of me is dead, then?) will be removed, remedying my dull, lifeless, sun-damaged (how bad is the sun?) complexion.

As the Daleks might say: Ex-fo-li-ate! Ex-fo-li-ate!

What else do I need...that's right! Hair removal! Once again, I'm in luck. Those mossy tufts either side of my canyonesque pate will be no match for Intense Pulsed Light, which is absorbed by the follicles and disables the cells responsible for hair growth. Proceed, Intense Pulsed Light: do the work my genes were too lazy to do.

Hmm. It's no good. Delightful though this gift is, I feel it may be wasted on me. Anyone else want it? Hang on, I'll just check the small print...oh no! "No other user permitted"!

Giving me this is therefore akin to giving the first edition of Great Expectations to a duck, with clear instructions on the book saying it must be read only by ducks.

But then, perhaps I need to rid myself of such stereotypical masculine disdain for beautification.

If you notice any improvement in this column's photo in the coming months, you'll know where I've been.

The Sexual Dysfunction Association told us this week of an important change.

No longer will it designate February 14 as National Impotence Day; it will be known instead as Thinking About Sex Day.

There are many such 'awareness raising' days, which are useful for highlighting causes and activities that are frequently overlooked.

However, I fear that being encouraged to think about sex may not prove too challenging.

Perhaps a Stop Thinking About Sex Day would make more of a difference.

l Peter Ormerod is news editor of the Courier.