Perhaps I should shave today.

I’ve never been one to be able to grow a full, dashing mustache or beard. Like a mangy hound, there are simply too many bald spots. Someone should come up with a term that describes the look of mangy facial hair. Oh, that’s right…homeless.

But the lack of pleasing asthetics never stops me from allowing my facial fur to stretch its legs from time to time, particularly when I am on vacation. I may have been born Jewish, but I converted to Lazyism long ago.

To be honest, it’s not just the appearance that sucks, either. No, the texture is pretty awful as well. It starts off as something akin to Brillo and goes downhill from there. I go to bed each night dreaming that my beard would have the consistency of soft lamb’s wool, but wake up in the morning with the reality that it feels more like steel wool. One time, I actually cleaned baked-on food residue from a pot with nothing more than my chin. But that story is for another time.

Perhaps you are thinking that I continue with this facade because of the feedback I get from others, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. In fact, that would be a complete lie. There is great consensus among my friends, family and coworkers that Hairy Dave is only preferable to Clean-Shaven Dave in that there is less of Actual Dave to look at. One colleague summed it up best when he said, “It looks like an echidna took up residency on the lower half of your head.”. Don’t worry. It had to Google it, too.

But at least my wife is supportive. Supportive as in making sure I have a full supply of razor blades and shaving cream on hand at all times. And two electric razors. And Brazilian wax. And a sand-blaster. And a flamethrower, should it ever come to that.

Perhaps I should shave today.

I’ve never been one to be able to grow a full, dashing mustache or beard. Like a mangy hound, there are simply too many bald spots. Someone should come up with a term that describes the look of mangy facial hair. Oh, that’s right…homeless.

But the lack of pleasing asthetics never stops me from allowing my facial fur to stretch its legs from time to time, particularly when I am on vacation. I may have been born Jewish, but I converted to Lazyism long ago.

To be honest, it’s not just the appearance that sucks, either. No, the texture is pretty awful as well. It starts off as something akin to Brillo and goes downhill from there. I go to bed each night dreaming that my beard would have the consistency of soft lamb’s wool, but wake up in the morning with the reality that it feels more like steel wool. One time, I actually cleaned baked-on food residue from a pot with nothing more than my chin. But that story is for another time.

Perhaps you are thinking that I continue with this facade because of the feedback I get from others, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. In fact, that would be a complete lie. There is great consensus among my friends, family and coworkers that Hairy Dave is only preferable to Clean-Shaven Dave in that there is less of Actual Dave to look at. One colleague summed it up best when he said, “It looks like an echidna took up residency on the lower half of your head.”. Don’t worry. It had to Google it, too.

But at least my wife is supportive. Supportive as in making sure I have a full supply of razor blades and shaving cream on hand at all times. And two electric razors. And Brazilian wax. And a sand-blaster. And a flamethrower, should it ever come to that.