I HATE TO SHAVE! The only reason I shave is that my wife makes me. It's not only a pain the face but in my anatomical part which they say never sees the sun, at least not in public. My beard, and I use the term loosely, grows in 17 different directions. I can't just move the razor up and down. I have to shave in every direction on the compass and maybe some that are not.
I can't remember if, when I was an old boy, whether or not I was anxious to begin shaving, like you are to get a drivers license, but if I was, I must have been crazy! There is no pleasure in shaving and there have been times I probably should have had a transfusion when I got done. My whiskers are somewhat retarded (not supposed to use that word anymore) in that many of them don't grow toward daylight but seek the shade of my skin. This makes it nearly impossible to shave them without doing some kind of excavation.
I suppose I should be grateful that I don't have to shave my chest and back like some men do, or my legs like women do. I know hair on my face must be there for a reason but it eludes me. I suppose even mother nature messes up sometimes but I hate (not supposed to use that word either) to believe it.
I find some comfort in the knowledge that other primates' beards, unlike ours, even after 40 years, remain a fairly constant length while in the same time, mine would touch the ground . I believe this in itself negates Darwin. I wonder though, whether or not we were supposed to wrap ourselves in our beards for protection.
If anyone knows a way for me to avoid shaving without getting rid of my wife, please, contact me.
I can't remember if, when I was an old boy, whether or not I was anxious to begin shaving, like you are to get a drivers license, but if I was, I must have been crazy! There is no pleasure in shaving and there have been times I probably should have had a transfusion when I got done. My whiskers are somewhat retarded (not supposed to use that word anymore) in that many of them don't grow toward daylight but seek the shade of my skin. This makes it nearly impossible to shave them without doing some kind of excavation.
I suppose I should be grateful that I don't have to shave my chest and back like some men do, or my legs like women do. I know hair on my face must be there for a reason but it eludes me. I suppose even mother nature messes up sometimes but I hate (not supposed to use that word either) to believe it.
I find some comfort in the knowledge that other primates' beards, unlike ours, even after 40 years, remain a fairly constant length while in the same time, mine would touch the ground . I believe this in itself negates Darwin. I wonder though, whether or not we were supposed to wrap ourselves in our beards for protection.
If anyone knows a way for me to avoid shaving without getting rid of my wife, please, contact me.
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