Book of Dragons’ Den rejects

Quick, intuitive and saves me having to send out the sniffer dogs.

Our eldest, Bradley, is on the remarkable Snapchat app which means he can post video from his phone while his location is indicated on a map by a computer-generated version of himself. However, rather than shedding light on his activities, like most social media usage, it only serves to obscure the truth.

On his Snapchat posts from a music festival in Leeds, his avatar - resplendent in a natty black suit and tie - directed me towards a number of videos of youngsters enjoying performances from live bands in a field.

The Bradley who returned from this six-day music festival was a far cry from the clean cut computer-generated Bradley on my mobile. He informed me he hadn’t slept, eaten, washed or changed his clothes for the entire trip.

When he turned up at my doorstep, he was half a stone lighter, barely able to keep his eyes open and said he was forced to sport a baseball cap because his hair, despite washing it three times, still stank of smoke. Online he was a picture of health and wealth. In person, he wouldn’t be out of place in a shop doorway waving a plastic cup begging for his bus fare.

I’m done with social media. It’s one big lie. And if everyone really is having so much fun, how come they look so miserable when you see them on the street? Some might say it’s because they’ve just bumped into me, but they’re just cynics.

As an invention, social media is a dud. Which is why I have looked elsewhere for inspiration. Namely, the Easylife brochure which fell out of my newspaper last week.

It is filled with products which the brochure trumpets as “everyday solutions for making your life easier”. It should have been called the book of Dragons’ Den rejections.

Here’s one of my favourites: The Snore No More jaw strap has to be seen to be believed. It cups your chin and stretches over your head to stop you snoring. One size fits all apparently. £12.99.