More fun and games at Customs

Here's a scan of my passport photo. This is no worse a facsimile of my features than the real thing. (Oh, except that I have grey eyes, and the ones in my passport seem to be brown.)
Astute and attentive readers may at this point be saying "But hang on, you don't appear to have a chin in this photograph or any facial features whatsoever. And there's black lines redacting most of the information? Why didn't you scan your passport photo properly?" Alas, that's what it looks like - when one of your chums shaves your head for you the week before your brother's wedding, and then the photo machine is almost out of ink. I never thought it would be accepted - I figured the UK Passport Authority would reject it out of hand, and I'd get the chance to have a photo taken when I looked better.
Since I currently look like this (beard bushiness subject to variation, your mileage may vary according to driving style), there is never-ending hilarity from customs officials.

Perhaps they're amazed that I've grown a jaw in the 3 years between having the passport issued and visiting their charming country.
When I was in Paris in 2006 (and at that point beardless but still owning a chin), desperate to catch the Eurostar back to London, a narked off gent from UK border security asked if this had been allowed by the Passport Agency. I wondered if they often asked such stupid questions - was he expecting me to say "No, I made it myself" or "I'm not sure, but given you're holding a passport, it probably has been allowed". I got through and back to the Mother Country, but it hasn't stopped since.
Actually, it's no problem getting into most countries. The US, for example, which is renowned for making it hard on people to get in, let me pass through 2 times out of every 3 with just a blithe look of contempt. (The other time, they assume that my love of hand luggage is demonstrative that I'm smuggling drugs, but that's for another time.) Canada is a problem, if only because their customs staff will ask open ended questions, which, as a philosophy graduate, I answer as efficiently and truthfully as possible.
Him:"Will you be staying with family or friends?"
Me:"Yes."
They don't like bivariate logic up 'em, the humourless fiends...
But leaving is often harder. When I flew into Singapore in April, I was immediately distracted by the bowl of sweets on the counter at the passport check. I couldn't maintain eye contact - my gaze kept drifting back to the glacier mints or whatever other sacred jujubes were there. And despite looking shifty, in I went. On the way back out of Singapore, by which point you think they'd be glad to be rid of me, they were busy dismantling my suitcase, staring long at hard at my passport like I had personally insulted them by leaving, as though Singapore wasn't good enough for me.
Likewise Taiwan - fly in, get a big grin from the man stamping passports. Fly out, and an official looks at my passport for five minutes, and then says
Is this a photograph of you?
Er, no. It's just some gweilo I carry around for emergencies.
Don't make jokes, mind. There's a sign in Sydney airport saying that joking about security measures may be punished by a prison sentence - so much for them being happy-go-lucky sorts, the moody, miserable antipodeans. On the way out there, the bored guy looked personally affronted, and asked me if I was trying to look as different as possible to my passport on purpose. Frankly, if you had a photograph like mine, yes you jolly well would, but, fearing being truncheoned to the floor, I just mumbled something about having misplaced my razor, and got out while the going was good.
Maybe it just shows that everyone looks basically the same, or else that the authorities believe all terrorists must be quite stupid. Going into Beijing, I had another hard look at my passport, before they asked:
What is ... your name?
Luckily, I passed that test. In Macau two weeks ago, they asked "where was ... your name?" but I avoided the temptation to point out the flaw in his grammar. Oh, where is my pride in my language now?
Anyway, maybe I'll change my photo to this, and see if it speeds up or slows down my passage: