The condom shares the drawer with the scissors with the curved blades which I bought because I thought this curvature would make them ideal for controlling the regrowth of nasal hair. The first time I used them, I cut a piece off my nose. It wasn't a big piece but my eyes watered for hours and I suffered nose bleeds for the rest of the day. The scissors now lie untouched along with the repair kit for use in the event of the arms disengaging from my glasses.

As I type this, my head is tilted at a 45 degree angle to the laptop screen which is the only way I can stop the glasses, which broke again this morning, from sliding off my face. It didn't occur to me when I bought the repair kit that you would have to be wearing glasses in order to be able to see to use the kit to fix your glasses which you couldn't fix because you would be wearing them.

There are various vitamins bought as part of invariably doomed campaigns to live a wholesome, healthy and holy life and cast aside within days of purchase. There are some anti-malaria pills which caused me to hallucinate and become even more neurotic than usual. Faced with the prospect of going mad or getting malaria, I took my chances with the mozzies.

There's a bottle of aftershave lotion I bought that smells like cat urine. My olfactory senses must have been down for maintenance the day I purchased it. Whenever I wear it, my fiancée takes one sniff, covers her mouth with a tissue and begins to dry retch. I am, however, extremely popular with the neighbourhood cats.

There is an impressive collection of aspirin-derived products, their packets torn where I have ripped them apart when in search of instant salvation from a Bundaberg Rum hangover.

There's some moisturiser bought after the shop assistant had assured me that, if I applied it twice daily, I'd look spunky within a fortnight. This was a little wide of the mark. I used it assiduously for two weeks before realising that instead of peering at a twisted, psychotic face in the bathroom mirror, I was now looking at a twisted, psychotic and greasy face.

There are small tubes of various ointments which must have been once used to treat an ailment. There is the DIY waxing kit which arrived in my letterbox one day. Close reading of the instructions revealed the warning that under no circumstances was this cream to be applied to the genital area. This was unnecessary, as I had no intention of performing a DIY Brazilian. However, I could not help but wonder what would happen if you failed to read the instructions and applied it to your more sensitive parts.

There also is a pair of plaster feet. These are casts of my feet taken to have inserts made for my shoes. I regularly place the left insert in the right shoe and vice versa which causes my feet to travel in different directions. You get where you want to go but it takes a lot longer.