I apologise, Beard Lovers. I know I've skipped a week or so, but I was hoping the Valentine's holiday and proceeding days would provide more material for my promised "sexy-time" entry than it did. So let's just get down to it. (WARNING, this entry may be a little more explicit than normal.)
I had presumed that eventually this experiment would result in several months of celibacy (i.e February through December). However, I have discovered that most ladies I encounter find my new look rugged and Brawny Man sexy. They stroke my face and love how soft and luxurious it has become -- it really is quite amazing.
Unfortunately, my interest in the vagina business has only been a passing fascination and as a friend once told me: "just because you occasionally stick your dick in a women doesn't mean you're bisexual -- it just means you've had too much to drink". Truer words have never been spoken.
Conversely, most men I discuss my beard with are in awe and express admiration. They either can't grow their facial hair because it's patchy and doesn't come in even or because something is holding them back -- like a partner or a job.
Overall, we are getting a good reception, but what about my target market? What about my dating pool? Then I think: maybe it's time to move to another pool. Maybe I need to stop rejecting all those I did in the past (e.g. those boys that look like I do now). Is this the first realisation of my shallow past? Only time will tell and I will, of course, keep you all posted.
Two entries in a row I'm discussing edibles -- in a manner of speaking. Let me say a few things about "Salt & Pepper". First, I'm not a fan of most condiments, but salt and pepper I like (probably due to the fact that they are more adequately classified as spices). Second, I love the chips. Third, I've always found the salt and pepper look attractive, mature but youthful -- distinguished even (and I don't use distinguished as a polite euphemism for "old").
That said, it is with mixed emotions that I come to terms with the fact that many of the lighter coloured hairs about my face and head are not the blonde that I have always insist they are -- they may, in point of fact, be "gray-ish" (no, close-ups will not be provided). On one hand, I don't mind as -- again -- I find it attractive. On the other hand, it looks a lot better with a full head of hair. Clearly the follicle fates have cursed me. I'm able to grow excessive amounts of hair every place except the one place that I want it and the hair I do grow there is having the colour of life sucked right out of it. Just for Men may need to be added to the grocery list next to the Rogaine.
Nickname update for the hecklers. This week I've been called a young Wilford Brimley and a fat Ted Kaczynski. Enjoy.
NEXT WEEK: The Year Beard's Impact on The Sexy Times
A look of panic swept across my hairy face when a friend recently told me that I had mashed potatoes in my beard. I grabbed the closest paper napkin and hurriedly attempted to remove all traces of the intruding tubers. Confident that the offending spuds had been vanquished I returned to my meal only to realise that a cheap paper napkin -- when scrubbed vigorously against facial hair -- leaves it's own curse - paper shrapnel. A vision of a near future in which I eat all of my meals through a straw enters my head.
Moments later I was also informed -- mid-application -- that peppermint lip balm dries out your lips. I'll miss that tingly bastard.
I've learned a few other this week: shampoo in the eye burns and no one says "crème rinse" any more. (The latter may not be entirely true as I have been informed that a friend's grandmother is still actively using crème rinse.)
