this is my beard...
i've been growing it since late September. i've trimmed it to do my best to keep it uniformed, while allowing it to grow in full. i'll keep it until Easter Sunday, its not religious as much as it is a good round number of a date. And shit gets hot in this city in the Summer months...
the Cat Mom loves it. So much so she'll probably want more...and she'll get it.,,
my mother thinks i look like Yukon Cornelieus. i think of my young comrade Yukon and hope he hasn't broken his neck on some ski slope or on some third floor of a hospital somewhere...
the Brooklyn Bomber calls it majestic. He might be right, but the Dungeon Master would scoff at my effort...
the bastard's beard sees a therapist twice a week to offset the inferiority complex that its working through...
judge roughneck still thinks it 1998, but that's not the point...
i've noticed, since growing this beard, how i have entered an exclusive club. Even i am victim of a vain thought, now and then. When i walk the streets and i see other men, (and women unfortunately), sporting beards i rate them in comparison to mine. Rarely, at least here in the NYC, do i meet an equal, let alone a superior. But i find that i have entered an order unlike any other. As i walked through my errands in the hills this fine day i ran into a gentleman doing construction on the station clock tower wearing a beard similar in length and style to mine. We locked eyes and gave each other a head nod, it seemed a subconscious gesture. Its almost that with beard comes esteem among men. Not in a bopiti-boopiti-Family Guy way, but in a beard growers way...
you wouldn't understand, bare-face...
enjoy Aces, your life is about to change...
6 comments:
What kind of narcissistic psychopath dedicates an entire blog post to his own beard? Even I wouldn't do that!
And my beard is hot. Ever since I trimmed it, I've been getting compliments from everybody.
it wasn't about my beard, it was about growing a beard. You're just such a narcissistic psychopath, you're just pissed off its not about your scruff.
And don't call what you have a beard, its a decoration.
The aesthetic is one aspect, but a foot note regarding the thoroughly enjoyable practical application of the beard may inspire beard growers.
A decoration? My beard looks good. You like you've been hibernating in a cave all winter.
My dear, as I wrote, you'll get it.
Jack, I could buy your "beard" at Walmart in the clearance isle.
Don't pick on Jack! That is unkind plus, his beard is much nicer than the one my mother in law is sporting.
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