I know nothing is as riveting as facial hair updates. As I continue protesting razors until I finish my script, the celebrity comparisons have gone from Wolverine to the Wolfman. From Hugh Jackman to Chewbaccah. I have also been told I look like I was stranded on an island.
There haven’t only been heckles. An elderly gentleman told me I looked erudite in my beard. I thanked the man for what I assumed to be a compliment, although I’m not entirely certain erudite isn’t a synonym for homeless.
Once you have a beard you start noticing how many others sport facial hair. Normally I’m ignorant of this thriving subculture, but now I give my brothers an affirming nod. They too have learned the time saving benefits of letting nature take its course. Not only do beards keep you warm in the winter, they also allow you a place to store your house key on your morning jog.
The next step is getting a separate comb for my beard, so I can pluck out spare change and the crumbs from the delicious cookies I ate last week.