Turns out I can grow some toplip hair, consistent with a moustache, but it still looks wiry and insubstantial like a chimney sweeper's brush. At least I'm hitting that magical point between it appearing that you haven't shaved in a week and that you're actually going through with Movember. Up until now the lines were blurred, but it is starting to tip in my favour of the shaveless week. Perhaps I was studying for my final exams, playing a Test match for Australia (check out Ricky Ponting after a Test; more hair on the face than under cap), or getting over a break-up. Yes, I have a break-up moustache without any actual breaking up... not bad if I do say so all by myself...

Never to fear I've recruited someone to help. He'll be the Mickey Goldmill to my Rocky Balboa, Bullwinkle J. Moose to my Rocky J. Squirrel. My sidekick throughout this process. Someone who realises that it isn't easy being somewhat hairy, whilst at the same time understanding the plight of those who humiliate themselves for other's entertainment. Welcome to the Mo-Blogger series... the Moustache Monkey! He doesn't have a moustache yet either, mostly because I haven't made him one, but in a way he's just like the rest of us. Yet to fully reach a place where the moustache is a defining quality on your face and merely an annoyance.

First things first, what do we name the Monkey? I'm sure we can rustle up a prize for the best name, as judged by none other than the Monkey himself. Seems fair to pick your own name. Start pondering now Grill'd fans and keep on growing those moustaches that have your employers, girlfriends and mothers absolutely mortified. We await your reply, monkey and I.