I have the face of a 1980s Belgian van driver. When shut, my eyes are too small. They are in danger of completely healing over. They’re not exactly identical twins, either – more members of the same family. My face has inflated a bit since middle age. My achilles heel has always been my skin. If there’s an alien spot, rash or blemish without a home, my face offers it asylum.
Like Samson, my hair is my strength. It grows fast and strong, but doesn’t play by the rules. It laughs at its feeble enemy, the comb. But if it’s shaved off, I might lose my funniness. It was more ginger when I was small, although my mum called it “auburn”.
I have the gift of clumsiness, so, although I’ve exaggerated it to fashion into a career, it’s not unusual to find shaving foam or small parts of long-forgotten meals clinging to parts of my head. I should probably look in the mirror more often.
Looks-wise, apparently I resemble Michael Douglas and Ben Goldacre. However, someone once took the trouble to write and say that I looked like a cross between Gérard Depardieu and Orinoco the Womble. Thanks. These days, people also send pictures of guinea pigs with bad hair days.
Offstage I am quite normal, apparently. But I fear the mirror, in case it tells me I am dull, which is why I keep pulling faces.• Milton Jones performs at the GQ Comedy Extravaganza at the Eventim Apollo, London W6, on Monday. His Radio 4 show is on Wednesdays at 6.30pm.