Under severe pressure from Hay and with lots of protest from me, the luxuriant Poirot (Kenneth Branagh version) moustache project has been cancelled after not even 4 full months.
Hay thought that, instead of looking like a great British eccentric, I looked like a Hairy Biker.
The crunch came when I had a large (3 scoops) honeycomb toffee / vanilla ice cream while away in Devon over the weekend - I have to admit that it was pure, unadulterated carnage. Hay also complained about grooming wax stains on my pillows and that, after drinking coffee or red wine, my T shirts looked like one of Sir Les Patterson cast-offs.
Some liked it; some loathed it, in about equal measure. The fact I hadn't shaved for a week meant its removal was an easy choice, as I was back to the designer stubble.
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