As the Guardian informs me this week, the anti-smoking campaign has upped the ante by appealing to smokers' vanity.
As before, gentlemen are warned of the threat that smoking poses to their sexual potency, although as far as I'm concerned they might as well warn me of a threat to my gold-plated limousine.
Ladies, on the other hand, find themselves menaced by the prospect of "cat's bum mouth", a dread condition whereby their filthy habit will inevitably lead to unsightly wrinkles around the mouth.
Leaving aside the obvious question of whether wrinkles are more intimidating to my fellow addicts than fatal heart and lung diseases, I applaud this initiative. After thirty years of ever more baleful warnings of imminent, agonising death, it's quite comforting that the worst anti-smoking campaigns are inclined to fling at us are willy disorders and unsightly skin conditions.
Nonetheless, if wrinkles terrify people so much, I believe I have a solution. Cat's bum mouth is caused by cigarette related pouting, but who is addressing the threat of unsightly wrinkles around the eyes, in the forehead and the cheeks?
It's not often I hand out beauty tips, but I've had a brainwave that will surely stall the ageing process.
From now on, instead of smiling, frowning, laughing and pinching our faces, I recommend a strict regimen of slack-faced passivity. If every facial movement is an invitation to worry-lines and great crevices existing to show where smiles have been, then only by keeping our faces blank and devoid of expression can we hope to fend off the cruel effects of time.
Don't worry if you find drool collecting in the corner of your mouth, for the makers of "Oil of Olay" assure us that moisture is good for the skin.
My only regret is that I can't patent facial vacuity and float it on the stock exchange.
Mind you, looking at the people I passed as I walked down to my flat just this evening, it would appear that I've been beaten to the punch.