and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

There comes a time in every man's life when he has to shave.

Luckily for me and my babyface, that time is about every 4 days or so. The unfortunate result of that, however, is that shaving is not as routine or habitual as perhaps it could be so I tend to forget, put off, and otherwise ignore the situation. This results in what is commonly referred to as shag.

Luckily for me I think I look fairly good with a bit of shag as it detracts a bit from the general consensus that I'm Ben Seaver's secret twin.

However, when I do finally get around to the shave the shag has reached such a point that the Mach3 pulls and tears it's way painfully through my hairs. They're just too long.

The trick, I have discovered, is to employ the use of my heavy duty hair clippers - the ones you see at the barbers that plug in the wall - to trim the beard to a reasonably short point where shaving with the Mach3 becomes mostly bearable. This works every time...

Unless someone has borrowed your electric clippers and not returned them in a number of weeks... which, as you can guess by now by the very mentioning of this issue, is exactly what has happened to me.

Needless to say, when I walk into a room of familiar faces I have, of late, been eliciting such exclaimations from people as:

"Hey, Mountain Man!"

and

"Whose looking a little scruffy today!!!?"

Not particularly helping the situation is the rug of hair I am developing atop my noggin' which has not seen a pair of scissors in some time. The situation is in dire need of rectification.

As an interesting side note, I have not seen - in my entire 25 years of existence - my father's shaven face. He has sported the full ear-to-ear-mustache-beard-combination since before I was born. At least he shaves the neckbeard.