Ow, My Beard!
I’ll be the first to admit it: my beard is completely out of control. I thought it would be funny to have a beard down to my knees, but now it’s just getting ridiculous. My beard is like some kind of magnet for food and crap. Here’s a partial list of things I found in my beard in the past week:
1. A piece of celery
2. Half a baloney sandwich
3. Corn. Lots and lots of corn
4. A whole baloney sandwich
5. The TV remote
6. A copy of the DVD Without Limits(What?!)
7. A human child
8. Another beard
C’mon! How did all that stuff get in my beard?! And you know, it would be nice if my friends would occasionally say something like, “Hey Jack, you’ve got a whole baloney sandwich in your beard,” instead of letting me walk around looking like a jerk. By the way, I have no idea how that child got into my beard and now I don’t know what to do with him. I gave him some potato chips and a diet Coke yesterday, but I think he needs vitamins or some shit because he’s in a real crabby mood.
Anyhow, I think I’m going to shave my beard and donate all the hair to “Hair that Cares.” That’s a charity that supplies fake beards to men who can’t grow them because of chemotherapy. Am I a saint? Let’s just let the Pope decide that one.
