Baldly going where no man...

I HAVE just spent an hour attempting to change my sex. To the great relief of my wife, I failed.

This was after Daz had shown me how the Face App worked on his phone. He took a picture of Leonard, who is a large and handsome bloke with a beard, pressed a magic button and hey presto, there was Leonard as Leonora. An absolutely drop-dead gorgeous young woman. Even Leonard was impressed.

Those with the requisite knowledge can have all sorts of photographic fun on their phones. I lack that ability which explains the hour I have spent trying to become Denise without success.

All I got was my visage squashed into a heartshape frame, which is not quite as dramatic and a little sad at my age.

Apps allow you to add horns and top hats to photographs, slip in smiles and clown noses, change hairstyles, make people bald – I did that once – and show teenagers what they might look like when they are 80.

“I tried that,” said my pal Arthur, “but it wouldn’t age my picture.”

“That’s because you already are 80.” I said.

I am strangely disappointed at being unable to master the technology because I was curious how I might have turned out if my gene pool had been mixed differently. Possibly more Martina Navratilova rather than Jayne Mansfield.

My failure was, my wife suggested, down to natural selection.

I’m not clever enough to be a woman.

Still, it’s probably as well it didn’t work.

My grandchildren were confused enough when I used an app to go bald.