If I Only Had a Beard

It’s been a while since I’ve written a “real” random blog, so let’s give it a try eh?

In these final few days leading up to Christmas, I’ve had my fair share of sightings of the big guy in red. Seeing that jolly fella, and his flowy white work of art always made me wonder why I can’t, for the life of me, grow more than “scraps” on my chinny chin chin.

Errone always tells me that I should be thankful that I don’t have to shave errday, but I dismiss that with a pout. You see, I’ve been blessed with baby’s butt cheek syndrome… and I hate it.

Whenever I see you peeps with beards, goatees or even sideburns, I get j. Even if I let myself go for two weeks (which I’ve done on trips mind you), all I come up with is some sorry excuse for stubbles – above and below my lips – that would make Tom Selleck wet himself from laughing so hard.

Look Out Abe Lincoln! Hurr comes Ed!
Look Out Abe Lincoln! Hurr comes Ed!

The people who tell me I should be thankful are probably right, but I just want the option, nawmean? I want to be able to wake up one day and say, “Hmm… this week, let’s go for a Rollie Fingers stache, or the Kimbo Slice beard, or Dylan McKay 90210-esque sideburns!” The only options I have now are clean-shaven or a little dirt on my lips.

Sad yeah?

Talk to me:
* Should I be thankful?
* My hairless bruthas, does this curse last forever? (Will I one day be able to shave a monster beard?)
* My hairy bruthas, ain’t it great?
* Do beards keep you warm in cold weather or sweat in hot weather?
* Ladies, are your husbands/boyfriends/potentials hairy? Do you wish they weren’t? Is it a turn on or turn off?
* Ladies, are you going to slap me cause I, at least, don’t have to worry about my other body parts? 😛

Happy Tuesday y’all!


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