Nerd Alert

2characters
Bent My Wookie
Bland Canyon
Conortje
CultureStrain
Face Hunter
Fruit Loops and Porn
Gay Sky Hooker
Go Fug Yourself
Inhibitory Links
Intergalactic Hussy
John Howard: PM
MelbourneHumanFemale
Ms Hairy Legs
Much Ado About Sumthin
Momo Freaks Out
Not a Turtle
Queer Penguin
Sheets and Blankets
Style Police
The Fash Mag Slag
The Line of Contempt
The Pen15 Club
The Spin Starts Here
The Superficial
Treading Water 101
UltraSparky
Victim of Narcissism

Links


Black People Love Us
Cocktails!
Elijah Wood is Very, Very Gay
Fametracker
i-Mockery
PervScan
Sexy Losers
Sin Fest
Television Without Pity
Tomato Nation
Three Way Action
White Ninja Comics
X-Entertainment

 

 



 



Thursday, January 04, 2007
Last night I heavily flirted with the idea of transforming myself into one of those skeevy, hipster, faux-Beatnik types by removing the majority of my holiday facial hair but leaving a vague impression of moustache and pointy beard. I mean, not like a goatee, which are hideous. But like, I wanted to leave but a hint of moustache and the tiniest trail of beard in a very triangular and geometric pattern. I hoped it would sort of look like I just hadn't shaved for a couple of days, and the rest of the beard was yet to grow in. Unfortunately it didn't really work. Although I didn't aim for a goatee, it still looked as if I was a wannabe bear, and I felt that if I kept the facial hair in its current state I would have to run down to the Den and buy some leather chaps, a riding crop, and one of those horrible white jockstraps Americans are always wearing in porn. You know the type: they look as if they are made of insect mesh, and need only a vague dick pressure on the fabric before they absorb the smell and colour of wee and sweat. Yuck.

So I shaved the rest off.

I like to call my complete disinterest in shaving my "holiday beard". In truth, I shave very little anyway, regardless if I am on holidays or not. Of course, I can hear my mother's voice floating about telling me that my whole life is a holiday, but whatever. Be quiet, Voice of Mother. I quite like a touch of stubble; the colour is nice (I pity those with black body hair!), and it grows so slowly I can easily get away with a decent week without even looking remotely skeevy. Unfortunately the skeeviness kicked in yesterday, and I got a real shock when someone pointed out that my facial hair had "a touch of ginger" in it. So last night I got the idea of somewhat trimming it back. I like to shave at night. Most people find this ridiculous, but it makes sense. Who wants to hold up a blade to their face first thing in the morning? Not me. And the rate-of-growth I'm mentioned, so it's not as if I will be all stubbly the next morning. And I think all those "your skin is tired/has poor blood circulation" theories which cheap, tacky men's magazines try to tell you are just bollocks. So I took my time last night, artfully carving what I expected to be a stunning adornment to my face, perfectly complementing my quite nice jaw line and evenly proportioned face. But no, it didn't work. I can't understand how people achieve that sort of dribble beard that connects each sideburn via the jaw line and chin. Are these people expertly skilled, or are they painted on as I thought for many years?

At any rate, I am back to clean-shavenness. Which is a shame, as I always think I look rather plain when I am barefaced. Maybe I should invest in some of those electric razor things? But then I'm a bit too embarrassed, as think that the person that I buy them from would assume I would be using them on my crotch. Which I guess the majority of people use them for. Not that I'm adverse to tidiness in that department. But I don't really want some yucky salesman from Harvey Norman thinking I have a big black bush.

|