I’m into facial hair… My facial hair, of course, although I have tremendous respect for other notable beardsmen of my generation: Broken Social Scene’s Brendan Canning, Iron and Wine’s Sam Beam, hockey playoff beards – unless you play for the Toronto Maple Leafs. My wife/daughter, not so much.
|I’ve been living with an almost uncontrollable Bendan Canning-beard fetish for years now. Sometimes, I think I enjoy Broken Social Scene just because of his beard.|
|Some people think Sam Beam looks like Jesus – the blue-eyed, fair hair, Caucasian tree hugger Jesus. But they’re wrong. That was Robert Powell.|
I’m currently sporting a week old beard. And I like it. I think it looks
good great. When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I stop and smile. And that sexy beardsman smiles back, and I can’t help to think: “Man, you’re hot”. But you see, a head hunter contacted me yesterday. He thinks he has a job for me, and he’d like to meet. That means I’ll probably have to shave that soft, cuddly duvet… Is a new job worth it?
And then there’s my wife. Last year, when I was the proud owner of a real hipster douchebag beard, she said one day: “Looks
good great, but YOU try and kiss facial pubes”.
And then there’s my daughter. I have no clue what she thinks, or what she babbles. But when she stares at my beard, and her eyes become red, and she levitates, and she foams from the mouth, and the light flickers, and the skies turn dark, I do whatever the f*ck she wants.
There’s only one way this can end, and it’s with a sad and broken razor blade after a sordid one-time affair.
A [Modest] Beard Retrospective
[For your viewing pleasure, all pictures are clickable]