CALL it lek, kwanza, pulas, birr, bututs, ringit, kip, at, avos, tambala, khoums, won, jun, chon, mongo, dong, ngwee or stotinki, there is no word so silly that some country, somewhere, hasn't used it for a unit of currency.

It's almost a relief to turn to Guinea, where 100 Cory make ... yes, one Syli.

Thinking commendably Green, the Royal Bank of Scotland reduces all its worn, dirty and damaged banknotes to porridge-like granules for use as fertiliser. Which only proves that, if money doesn't grow on trees, at least trees can grow on money.

In Nigeria, banknotes don't even have to be turned into compost before bacteriological breakdown sets in.

Tests at the University of Lagos revealed that naira banknotes provided a home for up to 1500 bacteria, including germs which caused styes and gastro-enteritis.

The United States Treasury recently issued 800 million new $100 bills. Nothing to do with nasty germs threatening the nation; merely that forgers have become so expert that 15 out of every million $100 notes are now fakes.

The new issue will take all the fun out of money-changing in Los Angeles. Drugs are so prevalent in LA that nearly every $100 note - the favourite method of ''snorting'' - is impregnated with cocaine.

Recycling Ukraine's valueless paper money wasn't so easy. Officials decided to pulp 35 tons of karbovantsi notes and turn them into toilet rolls.

Oh dear. They didn't realise that the red, blue and green pigment in the banknotes wasn't degradable ... and that the loo paper left everyone with a rear like a Jackson Pollock painting.

One final word of warning. The Russian mint recently issued a coin with 100 roubles stamped on one side ... and 50 roubles on the other.

Never plays heads or tails with a Muscovite.