I LOVE MY NEW TOUPEE

Thomson was bald as a billiard ball before. His head used to shine like a minaret in Minsk. They used his bonce as a reflector to scare off the seagulls. He had a tuft of ginger fluff above his ears that was an insult to his masculinity. It wasn't an expensive rug, either. He bought it for £100 from Wigs R Us of Jermyn Street. True, it had a slightly nylony feel about it, as if it wasn't human hair at all, rather a wiry non-natural fibre woven into the shape of a squashed hedgehog. It doesn't fit too well, either - you can still see a bald patch where the toupee doesn't quite meet up with the fluff at the back of his napper. Still, he looks twenty years younger, even though that little quiff at the front makes him look like Adolf Hitler. It's also a little unfortunate that the barnet is auburn, whilst his own hair is bright ginger. It looks like Golden Shred in wholemeal bread. However, Thomson is the eternal optimist - he said to me: 'Bring on the dancing girls - I'm ready to party."