Well its finally here. A whole year of beard. 52 weeks of follicle fantasy. 12 months of twisted whiskers. All culminating to this one point in time. Yesterday a friend of mine complimented me on my beard and said he was quite jealous. Which made my year, for him and his brother are known for growing quite luscious beards. Of course all that pride came to an end while my brother came to visit this afternoon.
As you can see my beard still pales in comparison to his massive face muff, (and he just shaved yesterday.)
So now what? Do I face dejection of in-superiority and shave my face in shame or do I embrace what I have grown and build off of it? Before I answer that question I have to do a little retrospection. A beard in review so to speak.
I started this beard as a parody to Movember and that has opened the door for the Ausies to steal my month and rename it Decembeard, where they are raising money for bowel cancer, (fitting actually.) It has been an interesting year non-the-less, I’ve been through mountains of madness that almost ended my life as I know it, watched hipsters hijack a fashion trend that pushed beards to the brink of blasphemy, I dealt with my own inner demons as well as the worlds outer demons and now on the brink of another Brocember I ask do I shave my beard? How could I when I know Santa is still out there torturing and corrupting young elves. So I say Nay. This Brocember the Beard must go on!