A female friend (who had better remain nameless) complained to me yesterday that nobody ever gives her the same smouldering looks that some chinless romantic type gives Bridget Jones in the film Bridget Jones's Diary.

Always happy to brighten a friend's day, I decided that, the next time I meet my friend, I will greet her with the most smouldering look I can muster. To this end, I spent much of yesterday evening practicing in the bathroom mirror.

What can I say? I hate to let down a friend and everything, but smouldering just isn't my look at all: I come across as somewhere between annoyed and mildly perplexed. From now on I'm going to stick to what I'm best at: enigmatic and ruggedly handsome.

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