It looks like you sifted through your couch cushions, picked out the nickels and dimes, and glued the rest to your face. I should have told you in December. I'm sorry.
You were so eager in the fall; I just didn't have the heart. But it's been 3 months. This is an intervention. You look like shit. Now that I've gotten that off my chest, get that thing off your face. You've been under the beard's spell, so let's break down the layers of denial and Stockholm syndrome you've developed.
1. You like it!
No you don't. I like pizza and you don't see me scratching uncontrollably at it all day long. You act like you have bedbugs--if bedbugs grew to the size of a personal pizza and smothered your face every waking moment. Your misery is palpable. Even your flesh is fighting your beard. Ingrown hairs peek out, red and swollen, begging for mercy. Tonight, when you close your eyes and it feels like a million centipedes crawling over your neck, ask if it's what you really want.
2. It's okay since it's winter!
No it isn't. I'll admit that winter is the Las Vegas of seasons. No matter what depraved shit you do to get through the agonizing cold, people will generally turn a blind eye. Hibernation, casserole diet, unshaved legs. Fine. Whatever. All behind closed doors. But you march around touting your beard like a greased up trophy, brazenly wearing your lack of hygiene on your face. The first and only thing people see upon meeting you is your obnoxious, grotesque disregard of social cleanliness. The hair isn't filled out or trimmed, it just spreads asymmetrically from ear to ear. You're nothing more than a Petri dish. You aren't growing a beard, it's a growth on you.
3. It keeps you warm!
No it won't. You've got the hair count of an opossum on chemotherapy. If you think that pathetic growth is going to protect you, you probably compliment the 1-ply toilet paper of public restrooms. And who grows a beard to stave off the elements? Are you a Neanderthal? Has the invention of textiles not yet reached your cave? Get a scarf. If you really need facial protection, staple a dental dam to your lip and call it a day. What you have on your face is a cosmetic statement screaming "I am living garbage."
4. It looks cool!
No it doesn't. No one sees your beard, slick with grease as if you just lifted your head from a trough overflowing with French fries and says, "Cool! Let me kiss that dude!" No one wants that. Perhaps, in a pinch, they'll let you rub your moustache against their door hinge to stop a squeak, but that's it.
Beards are like face scars, and there are only two types of face scars: Awesome and Depressing.
A straight white line from a knife fight: Awesome
The melted and graphed smear of flesh after an acid spill: Depressing
Guess which kneejerk reaction people feel when they see you? It isn't good. They have to look deep in their soul and and ask, "Is he meaning to do that?" You've managed to grow an organic tribal tattoo, fedora, and cargo pants all over your face. It's awkward watching people hold back vomit when they see your beard wandering across your chin like a lost happy trail.
So please, please, please shave. The weather's warming, and I don't want to learn what kind of musk is fermenting in there.
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