stuck inside of baghdad, with the moustache blues again

As near as I can figure, today begins week 11 of my shaving-strike. The ‘stache area has been trimmed a couple times to keep it out of the mouth area, although I have now forgone this practice in lieu of training the hair out towards the sides rather than downwards.

Some things you should know about it:
• I have it on good authority that it made a 12 year old girl uncomfortable over the weekend
• I just ate a morning doughnut. Glazed. The glazing is stuck in the hairs
• It continues to look really horrible

I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out. I feel like my venture into the world of beardom is akin to our occupation of Iraq: there is no timetable for withdrawal. If only I had an elected legislative body to force my hand… At any rate, I should probably set some kind of date (and plan some kind of ceremony) for “taking it all off”.

Then again, perhaps the best course would be 5 different styles, presented in 5 different acts - Monday through Friday, slowly whittling away hair each evening in order to grace the office with a brand new look each morning. My face would be my canvas, my facial hair the colors of my pallet (strangely, a pallet unmatched to the hair that grows from my scalp). Clippers and a razor would be the instruments through which I plied my craft. Friday would be a joyous day indeed, with nothing but below-the-nose-bunting to greet the weekend. Or perhaps that day would see me with only the left side of my face free and clear, and the right side left perfectly intact? The possibilities are near endless.

Further bulletins as events warrant…