Those are my cats. They have no relevance to this, but they sure do catch the eye. NVGR

I'll start this off by asking you all a question. Do you remember a time when a man was allowed to be a man? Back in the good ol' days before most of us were born, a beard represented something. It showed that you were a man, it showed you were to be repsected, and , if flamboyant enough, it showed that you were powerful. Nowadays the glorious chin whiskers that meant so much are now frowned upon by most and repulse even more. With that, you may be asking why I mention the past glory of the man-beard. Well, sit down as I regale you with my tale.

At the beginning of this past summer I learned that I would be leaving the city of Houston for college in Canada. I've lived in Houston for 17 years, so this was bound to be a huge change. In order to commemorate this change, and as a physical manifestation of my passage into man hood, I decided that I would grow a beard. My mother, who is a avid supporter of my " pretty boy" look, was naturally against my new life style. " No, it will look horrible", she'd say, " You'll look like a beautiful homeless man". She tried and tried, but I persevered. I wasn't go to live in her world for fear. Shortly after that conversation I left home, and begun my trip up to Canada.


Fun Trip....

After my exceptionally uneventful trip, my young beardling was taking somewhat of a form. Granted it was nowhere near long enough, but I definitely had that " Movie Star" cropped beard look going on for me. So here I was, in Canada, looking like pretentious Hollywood wannabe, and in a brand new environment. My beardling made me distinguished, and was surprisingly turning a few heads. I was never good with the ladies, but the jolly feel of Canada and the freedom that came with facial hair gave me a sort of boost to charisma. I was making friends left and right, even getting a date with a decently attractive girl. The relationship ended rather quickly though. On our first "date", if you could call it that, I brought up the fact that I was growing a full beard. She didn't take to kindly to it. She said that I looked much better with it shorter. I ended it.


What an a-hole......

So at this I had lost the support of my mother and , as expected, was doomed to live a life sans female. However, my will was strong. Soon I discovered a new friend in my Biology Lab Partner. We'll call him Thomas for reference sake. Anyways Thomas is a first year student who is originally from Ohio. Thus we had the grace of being raised in America in common. What made Thomas special was that he sported a rather fetching beard, and was still growing it. Furthermore, he revealed that he had a special lady friend back in Ohio who actually requested he grow the beard. Just then, when my hopes of a bearded society were dim, I felt the warm light of hope overtook me. He was truly a free man. His family couldn't care less about his beard ( My mom is probably just insane), AND he had a significant relationship with a girl. No, not a girl. A woman! My epiphany led me to only one conclusion. The beard disappeared from our lives because of girls. Girls and their need to have gorgeous well groomed men. So I have a message to all the girls out there with boyfriends, boy toys, or significant guy buddies, and that message is this: Stop being girls, and start being women. I used to fit into your tight pant, almost girl arch type, but no more. I have chosen that . As a women you'll realize that your man having a beard is more than an excuse to not buy razors. It means that he is free! It means that he demands respect! And above all else; It means that he his truly worthy of the title Man. Also, He can look like a really High level Wizard!!!!!!!!!

<3~ Mr. Chewie