A friend sent me a link to an open letter to bearded hipsters. I love it. The author comes out swinging, finds the jugular, and jumps on it. Read it and enjoy. Here’s the opening paragraph to whet your appetite:
“Dear Bearded Hipsters, YOU GUYS ARE RUINING MY BEARD FETISH. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve loved a man with a beard. To me, they meant strength, power, MANLINESS. Someone who could protect me. Unfortunately, you guys have turned it into a fashion statement. The beard has turned into the padded bra of masculinity. Sure it looks sexy, but whatcha got under there? There’s a whole generation running around looking like lumberjacks, and most of you can’t change a fucking tire.”
It goes on for several paragraphs of ball kicking snark. I couldn’t stop laughing.
Then I scanned the comments. (Note: I could sacrifice a goat on YouTube using pinking shears and a blowtorch and I’d get six comments. Four of them would be spam. She bitches about men who don’t own hammers and she lights a fuse. As a blogger I have so much to learn.)
Because there is nothing in such great supply in the universe as irony, the comments go into the thousands and several hundred appear to be navel gazing butthurt men(?) wallowing in misery because she was unfair and wrong for insulting their preening. (I may have injected a little bias in that description, your mileage may vary.)
Also I’ve learned that one can put various products in a beard to make it softer. I can’t unlearn this tragic factoid. Uncool! A beard is not plumage; its whatever comes out of your face if you don’t run a knife over it daily, unless you’re female or Woody Allen, in which case you ought to get that shit checked out. This truth, like life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, is self-evident.
Apparently the beard thing went viral because she eventually added an apology called I’m Sorry. Her deep and heartfelt attempt at reconciliation is pure gold and ends like this:
“Lastly, I am sorry for blogging in the first place. ‘They’ really will give a blog to anyone. I didn’t realize that writing is a Godlike, sacred power. That every time I sit down to write, I must think: how will this impact every person in the world? Will I offend anyone? Could anyone possibly be hurt?
Sadly, this is impossible. But I really love writing. So, as of Monday, ‘The Nicki Daniels Interview’ will change to ‘Funtime Happyplace’ and will feature my thoughts on navel lint and lots of GIFs of dancing cats.”
Beautiful. Simply beautiful.
I have a beard. I have had a beard since I graduated from High School and was no longer required to shave. I don’t have a beard to “make a statement”, OR because I’m a “manly protector of the weak”. I have a beard because the idea of facing a blade at my throat or a goddamned buzzing appliance every morning of my life just to make Proctor & Gamble a little richer is intolerable.
I sympthize with the lady, just a little. The number of bearded twerps out there is certainly on the rise. But that is primparily because of the number of twerps.
For the record; I CAN change a tire, or fix a sink. I’ve done both. But I don’t want to.
“A beard is not plumage; its whatever comes out of your face if you don’t run a knife over it daily, unless you’re female or Woody Allen ….”
Funny you should say that. Apparently what came out of Woody Allen’s nephew’s integument was feathers. Hope the specialist in Zurich was able to help.
And yes, I am in love — for values of “love” — with Nicki Daniels.
Dude can’t even grow feathers. Loser!
Signed,
A.C.’s Rooster.
I kinda want to propose to her. like right now.
Also, you need to see this cat: http://ninetymilesfromtyranny.blogspot.com/2014/05/action-cat.html
I really like her “apology”.
Hipster beards. It gets worse. There are losers transplanting ass hair onto their face.
“Hey buddy you got some shit in your beard.
“
My Good Wife won’t let me shave my beard, she claims it is the most attractive part of my face. I think this is her way of kindly telling me I have a face for radio. My daughter won’t let me shave because the nightly routine consists of a hug, a kiss, and a whisker-tickle of her nose. Failure to do so results in a very grumpy kindergartener.
I refuse to shave because I live in South Dakota. Enough said.
Truffle fries?????? EGAD. At least I’m not the only woman who thinks this way!
Thanks for the ‘enlightenment’ (and the reinforcement!!!!), AC.
Now, if we could only do away with this “Five O’Clock Shadow Is Sexy” malarky…..
Here’s my secret for a beard you can live with.
I don’t like long beards; face gets itchy and pimply. Hate shaving, ugh. Finally figured it out. Whenever beard gets itchy, about once a month, zip it off with a hair trimmer and then leave it (no, don’t shave). You look like Miami Vice for a few days, then your beard is back nice and short and easy to clean your face. Absolute minimum beard care. Razor is banned from the bathroom.
Oh, and stop using soap, unless you are really gross. Soap is bad for the skin. Just warm water and scrub harder.