My Beard

I am hirsute in a suit. My beard started by accident: I stopped shaving. I don't really need a beard. I am not sure I want a beard. The beard would have been more useful when I was a pizza-faced teenager.

It started growing in early March. You might say it brings a new meaning to the March Hair. There is a problem. I haven't purchased a trimmer, so the darn thing is getting out of control. My mustaches are real cookie dusters now. And there are these stray whiskers popping out of my cheeks like little pin worms.

When I was in Walmart on other business, I did look at trimmers, and unusually for them they had a lot of choices. Too many. I couldn't decide, so I skipped it. Maybe I'll just use nail clippers.

Something's got to be done. Watch this space.

Please share...