I finally realized, why the fuck am I shaving? Who do I need to be clean-cut for now? Everybody that ever hated my whiskers is dead; so I let them come in.
Lot more gray than I was really prepared for.
It’s a year’s growth now. I don’t even trim it with scissors. I look like a real mountain man, survival type, which I suppose is appropriate considering the way I live. Considering that I’m alive at all. Hell, I am a survival type. What does it matter that I used to manage a video rental store? I’m a badass.
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