A Conversation for Paper Cuts

Beard Raising

Post 1

Queex Quimwrangler (Not Egon)

I well remember the day I acquired my beard. For simplicity's sake, I had it grown hydroponically, thus avoiding that troublesome 'burn-in' period. I visited it in its vat, cooing over its slow development. When it was ready, it had to be transplanted in an eighteen-hour procedure. I can still remember the cold, hard lights and the furrowed brow of Dr. Kudyupliespizov. He removed a kidney into the bargain, a splendid man.

Sadly, beard cultivation had its downs as well as ups. It is an affront to the dignity of man to have to massage anti-dandruff shampoo into one's facial hair. And the appearance of ginger patches was, according to Dr. Kudyupliespizov, unfortunate but uncorrectable. I can live with the ridicule and the scorn. I can even live with begie carpets. But no man should have suffer the pure horror of a keyboard clogged with beard dandruff.

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