In an effort to start the effort of effortfully exerting effort to grow a beard, last week I spent some time trimming back my goatee with the eventual goal of achieving a happy medium between beard length and goatee length. It was important to me that I not just cut the goatee to the exact same length as the beard hair due to the fact that I have, perhaps, the weakest chin on record. It's kind of like in that Chuck Palahniuk book Invisible Monsters where the main character has no lower jaw because it got shot off before the book started. In fact, other than the facts I still have my jaw, my jaw hasn't been shot off, and I'm not a girl, this story is almost exactly like that book. My advice to you is to go read that book right now, because you will be regaled by Mr. Palahniuk's grotesque, yet refined, sense of sardonic timing in his prose, unless of course you like to read stories about things that aren't horrible, in which case I cannot recommend this book.
(Now THAT's a tangent).
Where was I ... Oh yes, my beard, longer around the mouth, shorter on the cheeks, right.
Anyways, I was just playing with my beard while giving some serious thought to some of the things that I needed to accomplish today, and I realized that in my trimming, I left my left hand side of the mustache much longer than the mustache on the right hand side. I surmise that this leaves me looking like some kind of bizarrely mentally handicapped half-handlebarred mustache cowboy looking creature.
Oh, the press is going to have a field day with this one.
14 hours ago