Our weekly round-up of interesting and outlandish information, collected from the corners of the charity sector.

The Portrait of Donald J. Trump

Amidst all of the ongoing cacophony of the American presidential race, one particular story has continued to bubble and simmer along, just below the surface.

Allegations abound that Donald J. Trump; Republican presidential nominee, property mogul and sentient hessian-sacking cloth topped with a coiffured crown of flaxen straw - spent $20,000 (£15,118) worth of money from his own charitable foundation on a six-foot high portrait of himself.

Yes indeed. Even given all the things that the world has come to know about The Donald since the presidential race began – his almost psychopathic narcissism, misogyny, and unapologetic pandering to the far-right – this story is still hard to believe.

After all, what kind of person would spend over £15,000 of charitable money on a giant portrait of themselves?

According to the Washington Post, the portrait in question has since, effectively, disappeared – although the Post says it was hung for a time in the executive boardroom of the Trump National Golf Club Westchester.

If you can think of a classier way to spend that amount of other people’s money on something, then Diary would sure like to hear it.

The Internal Revenue Service (IRS) – America’s HM Revenue and Customs – have begun to investigate, and the Post quotes a spokesman from the IRS intimating that, if indeed the portrait was hung in one of Trump’s private enterprises, that would effectively amount to charity fraud.

The quote is pretty good too: “It’s on display, in his business enterprise. It’s not on display in a charitable enterprise. It is arguably enhancing the experience of playing golf there,” said Marc Owens, the former director of the IRS division overseeing tax-exempt enterprises. “It’s not a charitable use. It is a noncharitable use.”

“Arguably enhancing the experience of playing golf there”. The understatement of the decade, that.

This column isn’t exactly known for the looseness of its waggle, but it does, on occasion, enjoy a quick nine holes.

Diary can think of nothing that would diminish a round of golf more than – after sweating and cursing and shouting its way around; through, and over every bunker, water trap and hazard – coming back into the clubhouse to enjoy a refreshing beverage and a dose of heart medication only to be confronted with Donald J. Trump’s saggy, jaundiced, six-foot-tall face leering out from some wall in all its acrylic awfulness.

It’d be more than enough reason to cancel one’s club membership, if not solid grounds for a lawsuit.

Anyway, if the IRS determines that “the purchase of the painting was a prohibited act of ‘self-dealing’ by Trump, it could impose penalties on both the foundation and on him”. Diary doubts this would have any effect on his candidacy though.

This column is thinking of starting its own ‘The S. Diary Foundation’- all charitable donations will go towards building a fallout shelter in its back garden for year zero of the Trump presidency.

Empowerment pants

Most of us never really think about our underwear, unless we’re doing a wash, or Christmas is coming up and you’ve already received a perfectly wrapped, albeit disappointingly flat, package in the mail; the little Christmas Tree shaped stick-on card dangling limply from the lustreless packaging. ‘Happy XMAS,’ it reads and, then, just below: ‘Why do you never ring? Love Grandma!’

When the day arrives, you pick it up with your hands and, gently folding back the paper, you see the exact same M&S 5-pack of tighty whities you got last year and the year before that, and you drink the egg nogg, don’t you? Dressed in your itchy jumper with the reindeer on that you bought in a panic on Christmas Eve, on your way to some party you never wanted to go to and you look up to the ceiling and, your vision swimming with tears, you think ‘another year gone. Another year closer to death’.

Anyway, this brings Diary in a roundabout way to MsMissMrs – a Scottish non-profit that makes ‘empowerment pants’ for women of all ages.

Started up by Sylvia Douglas, a former community mental health worker, MsMissMrs seeks to “help empower women and girls to move on from tough backgrounds”. A nobler cause this column can't think of.

Yet, what exactly about these particular pants are empowering?

Basically, they’ve got an ‘E’ emblazoned on the front in that sort of Superman-style shield and font duo, and they come in a range of fetching hues of pink and purple.

But there's more to it than that.

Indeed, all the profits from the sale of said empowerment pants go towards providing funded places on the charity’s Self Empowerment Tools (S.E.T) programme.

A great cause and an interesting stocking-stuffer, all wrapped up in one… so to speak.

Pokemon Go! to your local zoo

From empowerment tools we move onto power-up tools. From creatures in valuable smalls, we move to small valuable creatures. From clothing that's really pants, we move onto a game that's really pants.

Yep, we've made a tenuous leap from knickers to Pokemon. But why?

Well, it turns out that Pokemon Go hasn’t just been bolstering the coffers of… Diary wants to say Sony. Who knows. Some tech giant, anyway.

No indeed, it’s also been providing a much needed windfall for Britain’s zoos.

Indeed, according to ‘research by Buzzfeed News’, four zoos across the UK have shared in over £80,000 after opening their gates after-hours to Pokemon Go players.

More than 21,000 Poke-heads (is that the term? Diary has to hope not) have paid to go to eight different Poke-themed events at zoos in Edinburgh, Chester, Bristol and Paignton Zoo since the game’s release in mid-July. Dudley Zoo has also been trying to tap into the Poke-naissance, but couldn’t provide figures to BF.

Indeed, it’s gotten to the point where – instead of marketing its majestic wildlife, family-friendly atmosphere and bountiful amenities – Chester Zoo is now boasting of its abundance of Magikarps. 1/3rd of players caught at least one of these magnificently made-up creatures at the zoo’s aquarium.

Turns out, in short, that some people are remarkably keen on an after hours Poke in a zoo.