Here is an archive of Brocembers past starting from 2013

Brocember is a parody of Movember where all the guys (and/or girls) grow beards to bring awareness to elven slave labour.

Brocember blog day one: Some stubble, no elves were injured.

Brocember blog day two: Face is covered in tiny razor blades. Elves begin to sweat while getting paid strictly in candy canes.

Brocember blog day 3: Stubble resembles something of a beard. Several eleves have passed out. One has taken to trembling in the corner chanting “He know when you are sleeping, he knows when you’re awake.”

Brocember Blog day 4: Beard is frosty white today one of the elves mistook me for St. Nick and tried to kill me.

Brocember Blog day five: Beard looks like hockey players beard in May. Bloody streaks were left on the workshop doors. One elf is missing.

Brocember blog day six: Face is full of ferociously flailing follicles. Five flamboyant elves fell from favour.

Brocember blog day six: Face is full of ferociously flailing follicles. Five flamboyant elves fell from favour.

Brocember blog day seven: Grizzly Adams came for coffee this morning took one look at my beard and laughed. I slaughtered sixteen elves in a jealous rage. Several more are still in hiding.

Brocember blog day eight: Starting to look like a homeless man. Beard still not warm enough to warrant going outside at this hour. Elves are going crazy from their steady diet of mercury infused corn syrup candy canes. I’m suspecting another plot on my life.

Brocember Blog Day Nine: Continue to get more and more handsome everyday. The elves continue to plot against me. Not sure if they are jealous of my good looks or if they actually think I’m Santa.

Brocember Blog day ten: found a roast turkey in my beard. I’ll be saving that for Christmas. Santa discovered his elves were spending more time plotting and less time working. Candy cane rations were cut and triple workload ensued.

Brocember blog day eleven: Man with longest beard in the world trips and dies, proof that too much of a good thing can be fatal. Good thing mine is not that long, yet. Look out Chris Montagner and Seth Goossens I’m coming for ya and I’ve got a whole fleet of crazed disgruntled elves to boot.

Brocember blog day twelve: Deep in thought stroking my chin. Where have those missing elves gone?

Brocember blog day thirteen: If Jason had been able grow a beard I’m sure he wouldn’t have turned out to be a psychopathic murder. Instead he had to hide his face in shame behind a hockey mask. Looks like a Friday the thirteenth Christmas special at the work shop.

Brocember blog day fourteen: I think I’ll start a tribute band and call it, My Brothers Beard. We’ll do covers of The Beards and ZZ Top. I’ll hire Zack Galifinakis as my manager and bring the elves with me as roadies to rescue them from those horrible working conditions.

Brocember blog day fifteen: The ground is icy.
The elves are torn.
Should they be good,
Or should they adorn,
Their hatred for a man,
Who causes them harm?
Could you fight a face
That looks so warm?

Brocember blog day sixteen: Like an elf on the shelf in reverse I hide between the yetis and the teddies with my beard and my aviators to bring the naughty and nice list and I tell ya there isn’t many on the nice list. Every day more elves go missing. Santa has installed “safety nets” outside the windows to catch elves feel the need to jump to their doom.

Brocember blog day seventeen: Man goes into bunker for fourteen years after y2k scare. Nothing to show for it but a fantastic beard.
Conditions continue to get worse at what I like to call the shop of horrors. The beatings continue the moral is not up. Production is down and the crunch is on. Elves are working around the clock to compensate for all those that are missing.

Brocember blog day eighteen: My cover has been blown. I was jumped by an angry group of abominable snow men and beaten to a pulp. I’ve blood and vomit in my beard. I’ll get you next time sant, next time.

Brocember blog day nineteen: wandering through the frozen tundra in a blizzard. good thing I’ve my beard to keep me warm. Last count 513 elves were missing.

Brocember blog day twenty: Five golden toques! Four pounds of back bacon, three French toast, two turtle necks and a beard…. In a tree. You know ya gotta love Bob and Doug Mckenzie. Only thing they didn’t have we’re beards, or money, or a place of their own….. but they did have lots of beer.

Brocember blog day twenty one: I’ve seen a lot of atrocities in my time in the North Pole. Beatings and abuse, elves sleeping in their own excrement. Crowded working areas, excessive working hours without breaks. But nothing compares to the atrocity of a man with razor burn.

Brocember blog day twenty two: We’re off to see the blizzard the wonderful blizzard of Burns, because because because because because, because of his wonderful beard of fuzz. Actually I’m getting set to go to the Hobbit, they are very elf like and they grow beards on their feet. Now if than ain’t worth a chin scratching I’m not sure what is.

Brocember blog day twenty-three: Wow those mirkwood elves are pretty bad ass. I aught to hire some of them to train my North Pole elves. And those dwarves could teach Santa a thing or two about growing a beard.

Brocember blog day twenty-four: Hunkering down for the siege. It’s gonna be a St. Nicholas Day massacre. Recruited a league of kung fu elves that managed to escape. I couldn’t find Legolas to train them but managed to get Chuck Noris to teach them how he round house kicks bad guys with his beard.

Brocember blog day twenty-five: ‘Twas an epic night as I waited by fire light for my revenge on St. Nick. Hoof beats fell and my heart began to race. I in my chair, rocked, hand steady gun cocked. With smoke and flames he burst from my fireplace. Much to his demise.
I opened fire and it was on. One last battle, one last Christmas song.
The fat man was fierce his eyes were ablaze. I screamed “This for turning those sweet elves into slaves.” A flurry of elves screamed a scream so loud. It would have made Chuck Noris proud. A fury of king fu mayhem ensued. But the reindeer were there to crush them under their hooves. Chuck Noris took a candy cane up the ass. And with a bowl full of evil he started to laugh.
I thought it was over the worst of my fears. And that’s when reinforcements sprung from my beard. The missing elves were hiding there all along, waiting to help me put an end to this song.
With the fight still alive and our pary revived I watch as Chuck plucked out Rudolph’s eyes. I watched Santa begin to retreat but I grabbed my tree and stuck it into his seat. Took hold of his beard and with relative ease. I scalped his face and stole his wallet and keys.
With victory and might we sent his troop out into the budding daylight. and as I sat in contemplation I began to feel weird. My face got hot with the length of my beard. It grew six inches in that misty morning haze and the sun came out to set it ablaze.

Brocember blog day 26: Me and the elves are visiting Chuck in the hospital.
Happy Kwanzaa.

Brocember blog day twenty-seven: With a beard as sexy as mine you stay up until three in the morning having intercourse….

verbal intercourse. Man you people are sick like I can have any sex with all these elves about.

Brocember blog day twenty-eight: I think I should take out an ad in the paper to place all these elves in good homes. Let me know if any of you could take like one to say thirty elves or know some else who could. They are all house trained, well except for Timmy. Maybe I could rent out my beard. Now that’s some good chin scratching. Lets make this beard make me some revenue.

Brocember blog day twenty-nine: Not many replies yet to my ad. The elves are starting to drive me crazy. I was thinking of locking them up and whipping them next time they make a mess in my kitchen…… Obviously my head ain’t right. I had even considered taking a razor blade and dragging it across my face.

Brocember blog day thirty: I finally placed all the elves. One guy took them all. (Sorry Ed Levick he said he’d take them all or none at all.) it was kind of sad to see them go actually. I hope I made the right decision. Thinking back the guy looked a little shifty and he didn’t have a beard. Hard to trust a guy who doesn’t have a beard. He was a little over weight too… Come think of it I might have seen him before…. OH my batman what have I done!

Brocember blog day thirty one: I’ve been distraught over the loss of the elves. Depression taunts me to give up, shave off my beard and give up the fight….But something stronger grows inside me. It’s the strong roots of action. The message must continue.
Tomorrow will mark the official opening of My Brothers Beard Machine where I will share humour and art. I know everybody and their blog has a mother. But I feel this message is too important to be left untold. This is why the beard must go on!


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the beard must go on

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