Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Dulling the razor.

One of the primary components of my Halloween costume this year, aside from the long hair, is a beard. To that end, I should have started growing one in already since I'm not exactly sure how quickly a full beard will come in ... especially since I've never grown one before.

I've had facial hair in some form or another since the days of Grunge. Yes, I was one of those Matt Dillon / E. Vedder types fronting a band with long hair waving around and a soul patch / sideburns / goatee framing my features in some permutation. Back then I don’t think I had the capability to nurture a full beard, so I never tried. Now I can, but I’m not so sure I want to. One, I know it's going to be all scratchy as it comes in, and I can think of much better ways to spend my workday other than itching my chin. Also, I fear falling into the danger of folks identifying me as an "ironic beard wearer" since I find such types relatively insufferable and really don’t want to risk being lumped in with their ilk. At the same time, I'm a little afraid of being mistaken for a mountain man or underground metal fan. But, above all the fears of stereotypical misidentification, I really just don't want the hassle.

I guess I'm locked in though, so I'm going to have to stop shaving soon. We've seen how strong my resolve is though, as evidenced by that while "I'm quitting smoking on my birthday" thing last year, so don't be too surprised if you see me raiding the costume shops for fake hair and spirit gum a few days before Halloween. Which reminds me, can anyone out there craft a fairly convincing beard?

You know, just in case.

__________

We've been threatening to pair up, and now we've gone and done it.

Yes, DJ South of North and I have been talking about teaming up for, literally, years now. Well, tomorrow at The Pontiac our talk becomes action and pandemonium is sure to ensue. Who would want to miss that? Not you, I'm sure.


__________

Geeky McGeeksterpants.


I finally finished all of season two of Battlestar Galactica. I knew I was in the midst of a potential problem area when last Thursday Photogal was leaving Liar's Club and asked if I wanted a ride home or if I wanted to stay out later and just take a cab.

I said, "I think I'll go home ... I want to watch a couple more episodes of Battlestar Galactica."

I'm still not sure if she was thrilled I was calling it a night, or terrified because it was due to a desire to watch a couple oversized starships make like the Israelites in the Old Testament. Anyway, I'm all caught up, and ready for the season premiere (which will, by the way, mark the first time I follow a season week by week rather than in a few days via DVD mainline) and all I can say is this: Can't these poor lost kids ever catch a break? Right when things seem to be looking up, they take a downturn. And right when you think they're as low as they can get ... things get SO MUCH WORSE!

Okay, end geekster transmission. My inner rocker is about to pound my inner D&Der into so much ectoplasmic jelly.

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