Well, after about a month of growth, tonight is the night I shave my beard. The mustache contest that I wanted to get going at work didn't come to fruition. So far there was only one entry from Dave, who didn't even wear it to work, so I'm pretty sure he's disqualified. You can see his mustache at the bottom of this post. Not bad. Kinda queer. Like Bill said, there is something very "assless chaps" about it.

The last time I had a mustache was on September 11, 2002. Well, it was the tenth when I shaved it, but it wasn't really introduced to the public until the eleventh. My roommate Mandy was contemplating a haircut, and she had loads of hair down to her bottom. She was hesitant, and I told her, "If you get your hair cut, I'll shave my beard." So she did, and I lived up to my promise. But before I completely shaved it, I played around a bit and eventually got to a stache that I thought was pretty sweet. I hadn't planned on keeping it, but Mandy assured me it was awesome. She was right.



So I showed up to work with this thing on September 11, 2002. You might recall that everyone was a little apprehensive on that day. A lot of people took the day off, and many that were working were kind of nervous in good old midtown Manhattan.

So I walked in to a group of people who weren't really sure how to act. Some were somber, a little quieter than normal. My boss looked at me, did a double take, then just started laughing. So more people looked at me and laughed. People made it a point to seek me out and check out the stache. I was told I looked like a porn star, a truck driver, a horse owner, and some other stuff. But the bottom line is that I kind of made everyone laugh on a day when people weren't sure they should be laughing about much.

I like to think I helped the city heal. I am an American hero.

Well, tomorrow at work isn't a holiday or anniversary of any kind, but it is casual Friday, so why not make it Awesome Mustache Friday? I think I shall. And the best part is that Dave will have to wear a suit because he's attempting to sell out, while I'll be wearing a mustache and dungarees.

So here I am now.



That look on my face is an impression of my friends Rich and Rick when they see me with facial hair. They like the clean cut look. They are gay. Oh, and I don't normally wear a hat when I'm about to shave, but my hair looks pretty bad right now.

I'm so vain, I probably think this blog is about me.

So I am going to go and do some shaving. I'll be back in a little bit, but you won't have to worry about the time lapse, because it will be seamless for you, dear reader. Oh, and by the way, there is no need to point out what a loser I am for doing this.

Before I begin, I just noticed this in my bathroom trash can. I call this photo "Q-Tip in a Beer Can." I'd like to thank Doug for that bit of found art. I like how in the background there is a mailer for Men's Health. No thanks, Men's Health. Doug and I will stick to our Q-Tip and Bud Light lifestyle, thank you very much.

OK. Off to shaving.

OK. I'm back. Here was the first bit of shaving. Just a little separation between the sideburns and the neck, so the neck scraggle is nice and distinguished. Yes, scraggle.



So I then got rid of much of the scraggle, and went with the neck mustache.



I kind of like the neck mustache. It probably doesn't get the respect and use that it should. Look how smart I look when I stroke my neck mustache. Pretend you just asked me a question, then look at how smart I am before I reply. OK, let's pretend you just asked me if I know how to get to Coney Island.



Hmmm? Coney Island you say? Ah yes, I know it well. Let me regale you with a tale of the Island they call Coney! Please, sit down, listen to me and gaze upon my neck mustache.

OK, more shaving to do. This is the most fun I've had in months.

Actually, the more that I look at this, the more I like it. I kind of don't want to shave it. If I shave any more, I'll basically look like I did back in '02. Nothing new there. This neck mustache is all uneven and shit. I dig it.

OK. I just changed it up a bit. I got rid of the chin hair. So now I'm not really sure what it is. But I think that if the mustache contest was tomorrow, I'd win.



I bet Chester A. Arthur won a shitload of mustache contests. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's how he became president. I strive to be like, President Arthur. Some day I will. Not all the presidential bullshit, but I'll have a pretty sweet facial display like he had.



Oh wait! Before I go, I wanted to do my best Assless Chaps Dave impression. I think I pretty much nailed it. Word? I even got the shower curtain.