It seems to have run out of steam. Or dry ice. Yes, this summer’s fest for f*ckwits, otherwise known as the “ice bucket challenge”, looks to have become yesterday’s old news. Hopefully the reason for this is that the only people left who haven’t engaged in this excruciating exercise in self-publicity, vanity and misplaced self-importance are those whose IQ at least reaches triple figures. That said, I am all for events which raise awareness: and this particular ‘craze’ has certainly raised awareness of the chilling number of self-important, self-righteous, mirror-kissing muppets the planet is home to. The exercise would have been far more interesting, from my perspective at least if, having poured the contents of the bucket over your head, the bucket (metal, of course) was then pressed down over it and volunteers, each willing to pay, say, £20, line up with a cricket bat and then get to hammer the f*ck out of the bucket as hard as they like three times. Nobody has to worry about the prospect of any of the participants suffering brain damage, and you get (quite literally) plenty more bangs for your buck.

I thought we had reached critical mass for stupidity with the ‘no make-up’ selfie a while ago. This is a genuine idea to raise money? You couldn’t make it up – quite literally! What kind of f*cking message is this sending out? That women (and women, I suggest. are the ones who make up the bulk of those who wear the stuff) are so ready to do ‘good work for charidee’ that they are willing to forego their usual vanity in order to photograph themselves without cosmetic products? Holy hell! What the f*ck did women ever do without Rimmel and Avon?

Of course, we are reaching that time of year when men get to make themselves resemble something less than a polished turd once more, with the onset of ‘Movember’. I say men, although I know several women who are well able to grow a fairly impressive quantity of facial hair above their top lip, many of them still practising at the English criminal bar. What is ‘Movember’ all about? It’s about growing a moustache for charity. If you haven’t worked it out yet, ‘Mo’ (the first two letters of ‘moustache’, unless you are from the US, in which case it is ‘mustache’) sounds like the ‘No’ in November. Clever, eh? I wish I’d thought of it. The fact that ‘mous’ or ‘mus’ (the first syllable of ‘moustache’) bears no sonorous resemblance to ‘No’ seems not to have troubled the creators of this dopey f*cking month-long event one iota. Mousvember doesn’t sound quite so catchy, does it. But why let that small matter prevent as many men as may be stupid enough from grasping with both hands the opportunity of making themselves look like tired extras from a 1970s American TV detective programme?

The idea? Apparently you shave your face clean on the 31st October, and over the course of the next 30 days you cultivate a moustache. The idea of this, according to the official ‘Movember’ website, is to ‘spark conversation and raise funds’. Spark conversation? Frankly, I don’t think I would give a kangaroo’s rectum whether someone I know began to grow a moustache. It certainly wouldn’t ‘spark’ any conversation from my end; I would be more likely to simply ignore it and just ponder in my own mind how fucking ridiculous the thing looked; but, hey – if you want to sport one, be my guest. Live and let live. No conversation, no awareness. In all honesty I would be more likely to spark up some conversation if, for example, a work colleague decided he wasn’t going to shower or use any form of deodorant for 30 days. At some point after seven or eight days, conversation would probably become essential, or at least highly pressing: “Erm, Reg? You smell like old shit. What the f*ck is going on, mate?” That kind of thing. It would have the further advantage of cutting down on your water bill for a whole month. You could call it ‘Charity Stinks’.

It will not have escaped your attention that I am not a huge fan of these events. However, if these mindless crazes are going to happen I would at least like to see a little more creativity and real fun injected into them. So, with that in mind, I have thought of one or two of my own ideas for charity ‘awareness raising’ which I hope will provide plenty of opportunity for giving the participants the kind of results I truly believe most of them deserve.

It may be a little late this year, but my first thought is ‘Sleptember’. This would be to raise awareness of the serious issue of ingrowing toenails amongst the indigenous tribespeople of northern Guatamala. The idea of this is that you remain in bed for the entirety of the month of September. This has a number of advantages. It keeps the f*ckwits who enjoy participating in these time wasting activities off the streets for an entire month. The only proviso is that you are not entitled to any form of access to social media for the entirety of the month. That should keep the f*ckers well ‘off radar’ for a good, long time, for a start.

Then, immediately after (and I have planned this deliberately to follow on from Sleptember), I propose ‘Shocktober’. The Society For The Trimming Back of Unsightly Nasal Hair Amongst the Elderly of Macclesfield have specifically requested that awareness be raised of this particular issue, and I am happy to oblige. Granted, this particular ‘awareness raising’ month is likely to leave most of the participants who have just spent a month in bed – and who hopefully have lost their jobs, and thereby their means of paying for their iPhone 6s – at the very least needing serious hospital treatment, if not the services of a box manufacturer. My good idea here is that you film yourself hooking yourself up directly to the mains by whatever means at your disposal. Go on! Be creative! How about taking a ‘selfie’ from the top of one of those really dangerous and high electricity pylons that you often see in picturesque countryside locations, towering above a field of Jersey cows, as you then allow millions of volts to liven you up a little? Go ahead – shock your mates.

You probably won’t be around for much of November after that, anyway, so hopefully the sane world will no longer need to wonder to itself why the f*ck Derek from accounts has suddenly taken to growing a moustache, and pondering to yourself whether he now bears a greater resemblance to John Cleese or Adolf Hitler. However, given the right treatment, you might just make it out of Casualty in time for the next fund-raiser: I call this one ‘Dismember’. This, once again, is for male members (quite literally) only. In order to raise awareness of the desperate plight of sex-starved chickens on the Indian subcontinent, the idea is to take a very blunt saw and whip off your todger – without anaesthetic!! Make sure you have plenty of bandages, antiseptic and a cool bag to hand before you start this one on the 1st December, though. It’s going to hurt, but it’s worth it for charidee. Those chickens will love you forever. And don’t forget to take a selfie while you saw, then upload it to social media and challenge at least three of your brain-dead mates to do the same. Hopefully it will lead to rapid evolutionary change in the next twenty to thirty years.

Okay. The last one may have sounded a little harsh. So here is another idea. Next year, we replace ‘Shocktober’ with ‘Cocktober’. This is where you get your severed member out of its cool bag and get sew it back on. Or shall we do it in Sewvember?