You collected the photographs, but they were never put up. There was never anything like the current proliferation of photographs of the president, even on the most insignificant wall in the most obscure of offices. They’re all over the place.

And quite inappropriate too. We live in a republic, not a monarchy. The person of the president, unlike a king or queen, is irrelevant to the role.

Official circulars are issued accordingly. I remember collecting official photographs for this purpose, including those of Dr Fenech Adami and Dr Demarco, besides all the rest from Sir Anthony Mamo onwards. A few examples are attached :-)

Car mechanics.

The first time I ever saw a Pirelli calendar was at a car mechanic’s garage. My father, poor Baxxter Snr., now sadly nearing his final curtain, had his car in for repair. This was back in the day when the photographers engaged for the Pirelli shoot gave it to us straight and plain, with no attempt to make an intellectual point.

It was beautiful. I don’t remember what month it was, but it showed your typical giraffe-legged model, all hipbones, cheekbones, and lips, stretched out beside a sun-drenched swimming pool.

My father must have noticed me burning the image onto my impressionable young mind. On our way home he said something about how I shouldn’t gaze at naughty pictures.

Alas, and much to my shame, I did.

Decades later, I actually, er, befriended a Pirelli model. She was a mess of cocaine-induced depression and celebrity-induced angst. She was the only person I ever met who was actually more miserable than me. Perhaps deep down inside me, there’s a supermodel struggling to get out.

So you see, some people do use calendars.

Coleiro, yes – because she is the head of state. But not Fearne.

Unable to CONTAIN my excitement
Unable to HOLD my drink (or urine)