What the hap just Crappened?

Please allow me to take you on an adventure that takes place during the summer of 1996. We are driving through northern-ish mid-ish Nevada (those are real words–I promise!). If you look to the right or the left, you can see the massive mountains on each side, and each transition in climate is clearly visible on the sides of these mountains. It starts out on a level of desert, and moves up into an evergreen forest, when all of the sudden…it happens.

Mom says that she smells something funny. Before I know it, we are on the side of the road. In between cuss words, Dad throws my legs out of the way to get to the fire extinguisher that happens to be located under my seat. After a cloud of smoke the size of the entire continental United States passes, I am finally able to see the blood return to Dad’s face. I am not able think–let alone ask any questions–before Dad rushes off into the nearest town thanks to the help of a passer by. After I “explore” the side of the road and the nearby desert creatures for about forty five minutes, Dad finally returns with a box of stuff and begins to work on our truck.  Ten minutes later, we are back on the road.

Now, I know you are all wondering what it was that caught on fire. It was something that most people would say is not flammable–the alternator. Of all the other very flammable things under the hood of our 90′ something Silverado, it was the alternator that caught fire. To this day, I am still not quite sure how it caught on fire. The only thing I do know is that it did.

It wasn’t until many years later that I drew this parallel. Sometimes impossible things happen. The best thing you can do is deal with it. I know that is sooooooo profound but if you think about it, it kinda is.  If we were to sit and complain on the side of the road, nothing would have got done and our summer plans would have been ruined. Dad may have been frustrated (let’s be honest–who wouldn’t have been?! It was the freaking alternator!) but he didn’t let his frustration prevent him from acting. He was able to collect himself, fix the issue that was at hand, and stop what could have grown into a life threatening situation for our family.

I think that as Christians we often do the exact opposite of what Dad did. When something that seems impossible happens and we don’t understand it, what happens?  We become like a toddler who does not understand why his favorite toy is being taken away. I mean he only assaulted his sister with it multiple times–why does it have to be taken away? This is usually the part when we pray “Why God?!? WHY?!?” Don’t think I’m immune–I am just as guilty of this as the next person.  Just to mess with you, chew on this for concept for a bit:  does God really owe you an explanation for anything he does? Think about it–he is God after all. The point here is that we need to remember that God is on our side. Just like any good parent, he really is looking out for us. Now if you are looking for me to reference a scripture there, please stop reading this post immediately and go read your bible.

Back to the impossible. As I have previously mentioned/alluded to, the impossible WILL happen and because it is impossible we cannot do it. Now I know some people may try to misquote a certain verse, but please stop and reread this verse one more time:

“No temptation has overtaken you except such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape, that you may be able to bear it.” (1 Corinthians 10:13 , NKJV)

He will not allow the temptation to be more than you can bear, but what happens in life is more than we can bear. That is the very reason he went to the cross in the first place. We could not have done that on our own. We need him, and we will continue to need him. Suffice to say, we try and we fail. That is why there is the miracle that is grace. The point is simple. The impossible will happen. Thankfully we serve a God who’s specialty is the impossible.

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That buzz…

It was a cool spring afternoon in Bedford Texas. I, having just gotten off from work, was looking forward to relaxing on my balcony, in my hammock. As I was sipping my ice cold Coca Cola and swinging carelessly in the breeze, I heard a noise that made my blood run colder than my coke. It was a buzz. The buzz was a familiar buzz that I have encountered many times before. However, this buzz sounded a touch different. It was a buzz of revenge. My eyes snapped open, and searched wildly for the origin of the sound. That is when on of my greatest fears was realized. My cover had been blown. I remember the only thing that came to mind was a quote from “Back to the Future”- “Oh my gosh! They’ve found me! I don’t know how, but they’ve found me!” It was the sound of three wasps flying into their nests, covertly constructed in my laundry vent. I despise wasps. You now know something about me that most people already know. I feel it is worth stating again, and again, and again and- well, you get the point. Those demons with stingers are the bane of my existence (next to smart boards, and terrible customers). I firmly believe Noah should have just set those two things on fire in the ark. I digress…
Apparently word of my last duel with these creatures- in South Dakota!- had gotten out. Nick Rosello, wasp destroyer, who had set three wasp nests ablaze at Norm’s Greenhouse and Nursery was in Bedford. Now those blasted miscreants sauntered into my no wasp zone like they owned the place. What was I to do? I didn’t have my makeshift blow torch of WD 40 and grill lighter! I had to go to my temporary arms dealer, Kroger. Since I live in an apartment complex with strict rules on fire, I could not use my favorite method. I had to settle for a less dramatic, and less dangerous way of disposing of these delinquents. I decided to go the way of the Germans in WWI and use chemical warfare. I picked up a pretty decent sized can of my makeshift wasp “mustard gas” and headed back to my proverbial “Flander’s field”. I girded myself in my wasp proof uniform of jeans and a zip up hoody. I was going into battle looking like an American Ninja! I took a deep breath, took a sip of coke to calm my nerves, and headed in. I caught them completely unprepared in their nest. I drenched them with “mustard gas”, and stomped them into the concrete of my balcony! I then took a broom handle (that I modified into a bo staff) and removed the encampment of evil from my presence.
As I looked on with a feeling of satisfaction from the battle, I noticed a small blur to my right, headed towards me. One of those buggers had not been in the nest when I attacked! It was then that I realized that I was in a dogfight for my life. I quickly drew my weapon and fired! Just like Clint Eastwood, John Wayne or Jimmy Stewart from the old westerns, I nailed him! My enemy fell to the ground and with one last sputter, buzzed his last. It was a victorious day, I savored what was left of my beautiful spring evening with my hammock. My adventure was a great reminder that freedom really isn’t free.
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“Turn left here. Recalculating…”

After my previous post, I was besieged with the task of coming up with new ways to top it. However, I feel that I must deviate fro my usual onslaught of sarcasm and terrible humor to touch on a different side of my personality. I recently had the opportunity to watch my sister graduate from the same school of ministry at CFNI that I did. As I was sitting there, I began to recall all of my memories from school. I was quietly laughing to myself at all the times I had slept through class and was still able to ace tests and score higher grades than some of the people who stayed up all night studying. I also recalled the growing and maturing that I went through when hardships came my way. There I was, sitting in my chair reliving all of those past experiences of college. I couldn’t help but wonder, “What have I done since then? What about the call I felt? Have I done anything to pursue it?” I must admit that right after I asked myself those questions I felt like a bit of a failure. When I had graduated, I had been filled with passion! I had wanted to go out and ‘take the bull by the horns’ and become the best flipping worship leader since King David himself; except that I would keep my clothes on. I began to wonder what happened to all that passion. I came to one simple conclusion: I got busy. I became so caught up in living life from day to day, that I had forgotten about what I went to school for. It was like going on a road trip, ignoring the GPS and going to see the world’s largest ball of yarn instead of staying on the road to my destination.

It got me thinking… Deeply. I started trying to find verses in the bible about distractions or about being busy. It was then that I decided to follow a rabbit in a waist coat, down a hole. When I got to the bottom, I landed on a story about Mary and Martha in Luke 10. Martha was busy preparing for dinner, and Mary was at the feet of Jesus. Let us be very clear here, that it never says that what Martha was doing was wrong. She was preparing food for dinner. It was a good thing. The difference was, Mary had chosen the better thing. The thought that then consumed me was, “which one did I choose?” I can see the practical side of what I am doing and how it will help me in the call that I feel is on my life, but that doesn’t stop my human nature from doubting. The axiom I have discovered is this: distractions are going to come. It is up to me to ignore them. It is never too late to set everything else aside and just sit at the feet of Jesus. For me being a person of action, it is very difficult for me to do that. However, it is something I have had to learn and am learning still.

So in conclusion, I have decided on a couple of thoughts. There is a healthy balance of doing and sitting. While it is a good thing to be a doer, there is a time of sitting that is also necessary. Without the doing, nothing would be done. Without the sitting, you become distant and less familiar with the one you are doing all this for. Putting one above the other would be like buying a pair of scissors and taking them apart just to use one as a blade. You are missing out on what they were designed for! The same is true with us. We need to have the sitting and the doing.

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That awkward moment when…

This blog is a true story that happened to me one holiday season. When I go places, I overhear things. I try my hardest not to eaves drop. I find it to be rude and invasive. This particular incident started when I accidentally overheard two women talking during lunch at the food court. Both young ladies were tall and athletic. Judging by their sweatshirts, they were part of the volley ball team for a university. That is when I heard, “If it weren’t for my horse, I would’ve never made it through those two years of college.” Immediately I tried to ponder how a horse was connected to college. I came up with multiple possibilities. Most of these were erroneous and random at best. Some seemed to originate from a fit of caffeine deprived madness. The only way this sentence seemed to make any sense would be if the horse in question was a race horse. I tried to imagine this lady as a jockey, but given her body type that was a stretch. Jockeys are known for being short and small, she was neither. I then reasoned that she had to be the owner or an associate of the owner. This horse must have had a great year to make enough money to get her through college. My thoughts consumed me, all I could think about was the mystery of this horse! I was supposed to be shopping for my niece’s Christmas present. However, there I was sitting in the food court trying to connect a horse to college. It seemed appropriate to name this amazing thoroughbred creature. I named him ‘Charlie’ after the “Charlie the Unicorn” videos on Youtube. I digress…

Finally, exasperated, my curiosity got the better of me. I decided I would approach the two women. I would apologize for eavesdropping, and then ask for an explanation. I got up and began to approach those responsible for nearly causing me to have an aneurism. It was in the middle of this journey, when I realized that the young ladies had left. I was disappointed that I would not get an answer to my important question. Then I had another revelation: I was still walking toward the table. I had also made the mistake of making eye contact with the two mall employees now occupying the table. In fear of having an awkward stare down, I had to think of something quick! So I casually said, “I’m terribly sorry, but I am doing some shopping for my four year old niece and I am having trouble locating your store. Would you mind pointing me in the right direction?” Side note: Have you ever heard the expression “Look before you leap”? The best advice I didn’t listen to! If I had been paying attention to the name tags, I would have noticed that the two ladies I had just asked for directions worked at Victoria’s Secret. It was in this moment that I could have made one of two decisions; I could ride it out and see how it played, or I could try to explain what had happened. I decided however to go with a third option and just walked away. I went home, turned on a movie, and called it a day.

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“Say what?!?”

Have you ever thought about what you say? I mean, have you ever  really reflected on the words you speak on a regular basis? I do. If you know me this may come as a major shock, but I do actually think about the things I say. Granted, this may be after the words have already left my mouth, but I still think about them. If you do not believe me, ask any of my previous roommates. They can all tell you how many hours a day I spend going over conversations I’ve had, trying to figure out if I have offended someone or why a situation went the way that it did. This particular blog is not about watching what you say, although you should (says the guy who has the biggest problem with it). This is about those turns of phrase we all use and don’t really think about.
The first one I am going to talk about is one that I use a lot: “This goes without saying.” Obviously it doesn’t go without saying if you are, in fact, saying it. The person on the other side of the conversation is more than likely thinking, “Thank you for showing me just how much confidence you have in my ability to comprehend this.” I know that we don’t mean this, but it is the message being delivered when you really think about it. Unfortunately, I say this all the time and I can’t stop myself. I’m a like bear drawn to honey. I can always tell when I am about to say it. It’s when I am explaining something to someone or giving important information. It comes to the point in the conversation where I am going to give a precaution or warning about something. Then the words start coming out of my mouth, “This goes without saying…”. In my head I am screaming at myself, “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! STOOOOOOOOP!!!!!” But alas, I am too late. The person on the receiving end of my diatribe looks at me with an expression that seems to say “Really?” I often try to play off the fact that I just accidentally insulted their intelligence by saying something like, “Its okay I really only say that because I love the sound of my own voice so very much. I sometimes even sing myself to sleep.” This too is usually cause for yet another awkward silence.
“It is what it is.” This phrase has become very common, and I can’t help but think every time I hear it, “Well, duh Captain Obvious! Or should I say Major Redundancy?” (I grew up in the 90’s) “It” obviously is what “it” is. “It” couldn’t be anything other that what “it” is. Otherwise “it” has something that I want: a conditional state of being. Side note: A conditional state of being would totally help me get out of so much trouble. “I’m sorry I was not me in that moment. I was someone or something other than me in that situation. That is why I felt it was necessary to frolic through the field of land mines, while holding hands with a grizzly bear singing the Canadian National anthem.” That may be a bit unlikely but the point still is that I know of nothing that can have a conditional state of being. If there is such a thing, I would study it thoroughly, and try to learn how to obtain such an awesome ability.
This last one drives me up one wall and down another. “I could care less.” You really mean, “I couldn’t care less.” I mean if you are going to insult something that is taking up your time, at least get the insult right. Thankfully for me using this statement is not an issue. If you say this around me, I guarantee that I will have a rebuttal for you. Depending on my mood it could be fun! I might say something like “Could you at least try?” Which generates the response, “Try what?” and a perplexed look followed by awkward silence. I will try to determine whether it’s worth explaining as you clearly don’t get it. And then the moment passes and it’s no longer funny.
Now, when I am on the receiving end of useless information- usually about some celebrity or celebrity-related topic -depending on the situation and person, I will come up some way of communicating, “I really don’t care about this.” One of my favorites – and I rarely use unless it is with someone who I know will get that I am joking and mean nothing by it- is when I take the liberty of making a list of pointless things. For example: Broom lint, Charlie Brown’s dad was a barber, Barbies real full name is Barbara Millicent Roberts, the first Ford cars had Dodge engines, the housefly hums in the key of F, Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia is the fear of long words, How Bill Paxton and Kevin Costner got started and somehow continued in acting careers etc. The list continues until the person stops me and asks me what it is that I am doing. It is at this point I reply, “Merely making a list of things I care more about.” Again the aforementioned awkward silence. Use this one cautiously. However, it should be noted, the more useless random facts you can use the better the joke.
There are more phrases and idioms that we use that I could rant on about, but I don’t have that kind of time and more than likely you don’t either. However, when I get to those other phrases and idioms and get more material on them there might be a follow up to this topic. So, just for the sake of using one of my favorite television cliffhangers, To be continued?…
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Twitter, Facebook… Twitface?

“Dear World”. I have used this phrase a number of times to vocalize my thoughts on how much I do or don’t like something. Most of the time I have these moments while I am working at Starbucks, and most of the time it has something to do with a rude customer, or something else work-related that is bugging me. Usually this something is a social code that someone is breaking, like being on their cell phone while I am trying to provide service or maybe it’s a person who refuses to believe that I really am competent enough to make their beverage. My point with all of this is simple: why do I feel the need to tell everyone about what is happening in my day to day life? Because it appears as though Twitter and Facebook have completely taken over both my life and our culture! Forgive me for the fact that this post may sound very similar to any time Lewis Black speaks on anything, but I feel it is something that entertains me enough to be written about.

These days, nothing is official unless it is “Facebook official”. I am waiting for the day when the minister will say at the end of a wedding, “You may now change your relationship status.” It should be noted that I am not in a relationship at this point in my life and I have no authority to speak on social networking as it relates to the relationship game. I can, however, still poke fun at everything else social networking has given me. For instance: spam evangelism. Those posts that say something like, “If you are a real Christian you will repost this as your status.” I will be the first to tell you that I love the Lord whole-heartedly, and I try to live to make Him known, but a status update re-post is probably not the best way to tell people about Jesus. It usually involves quoting “if you deny me before men I will deny you before my father” or other scriptures similar to that. Those posts usually tend to come off rather cheesy, even to the point of where Wisconsin looks lactose intolerant. I am not saying that the content is incorrect nor am I trying to get into a theological debate over  the post itself. What concerns/annoys me is the manipulative aspect of it. I do appreciate the heart behind the message and I get that you really want to witness to your friends. However, taking that particular route does more harm than good. Might I make a suggestion of talking with your friends one on one, as opposed to just typing and hitting post? Our God is personal, it won’t kill you to be either.

Another thing to poke fun at is cat posters. I personally think that cats are the work of the devil, and are in fact demon-possessed fur balls with legs. Some people think it is the greatest idea to take pictures of these blasted ministers of Satan doing something moderately cute and then post it with a caption of what this worker of iniquity could be thinking or saying at that moment. Now, I am not totally against these pictures, but there has to be a line! I am okay with it if it is clever or stinking hilarious, but please use discretion. One day the ENTIRETY of my news feed was one cat poster after another. As prone as I am to hyperbole this is not an exaggeration. The next day it was Gene Wilder! I may have been alone in my apartment but I distinctly remember saying in a rather loud voice, “What the crap?!?” It was at that point, I had to calmly remind myself that it is just a fad; like MC Hammer pants, yo yo’s, planking and dub step, it is just a fad. Hopefully it will all be over soon.

My last topic on this blog to poke at is checking in. This is where I expect the most banter from all of you. I say this because I read your posts. It is a very good thing that I am not a psycho after my friends, because I am sure I would be able to find you at any given time of the day. Nothing says “Hey stalker, please come follow me and kidnap me because I am going to tell you my every move!” quite like checking in everywhere. You might as well post a list of all your fears and weaknesses while you are at it. Now I myself have checked in only a few times. Those times were always at the same place with a group of friends IN N OUT Burger. Any other time it was someone else checking me in. This particular part of my blog is not about the occasional check in, rather it is more about the people who feel the need to share with everyone, every single time they change location. I am glad that you are there safely, I really am, but I do not need to know when you just checked in to see the proctologist. You just came home after not being there for a long while and you are with an old friend, that is wonderful to know (that really is serious, no sarcasm there). Suffice to say if it is occasional, go ahead and check in. If you are in the restroom and in the third stall on the left, leave the world and me out of that one.

I hope I don’t send the wrong message here. I really do enjoy seeing what it is that my friends are into, that is why I keep you as friends. In fact the reason I got a Facebook and other forms of social networking is to keep up with all of you! However, if 50,000 people have posted something, please think twice before becoming number 50,001. Remember it’s all fun and games until someone gets mad… on Facebook… then its officially on!

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The beard. An extensively debated topic. Some of you may not think that it is, however, bring it up in a group of mixed company as to whether or not it is attractive and watch the fun. I personally love my beard. I remember wanting to grow one when I was little. I can also remember when I decided to grow my beard. Considering that I have the genetic makeup for growing a fairly thick and even beard I thought “why not?” As it turns out, I can pull it off fairly nicely. Granted it has its draw backs of having to always ask a friend for a beard check after a meal and I don’t get a completely dry face when I get out of the shower. However, there is the plus of automatically being that much more awesome for having a beard. It has even given me a new nickname from my niece Zoe. It was a dark and snowy night, and I was headed over to my sister’s for dinner. After traversing the treacherous, snow covered, and ghetto surrounded CFNI campus, I arrived just in time. I entered the apartment and before I could remove my scarf, peacoat and winter cap, my niece Zoe cheerily greeted me “Hey Captain!” This scenario gave me another reason to keep my sure sign of being manly. There are many who grow beards for various reasons, some because they don’t like shaving; some people say it’s because they like the look of it. The list goes on. Whatever your reason for growing, or not growing, here are some things to consider.



Where does this whole thing of “I can grow hair on my face and I want to show it all off” start? Studies show that it has been around since ancient cultures. The ancient Egyptians would grow just the hair on their chin. Often times they would braid and even dye their beards a reddish brown color or hennaed. Sounds fabulous right? In cases of Kings AND Queens they would use a false metal beard called a postiche that was held in place by a ribbon tied over the head and attached to a gold chin strap. This was used to signify sovereignty, and was even placed on cows in some cases. The ancient Egyptians were not the only ancients to wear beards of course. In the Bible we read about various men of God in ancient times with their bears as well. If you do your reading you will find that the Israelites would leave their beards untrimmed and uncut (Leviticus 19:27). However, the reasons for that is a completely different blog topic which I do not have the time to go into. In ancient India it was a sign of honor to have a bear. In fact, if a man were caught in adultery the punishment would be for the man to have his beard shaven in public. They regarded their beards as being sacred. In some cases they would even offer their beards as a payment of a debt.


In ancient Greece the beard was a sign of virility. In fact most men would only shave their beards as a sign of mourning. Now for those of us who have ever had the thought “Whose blasted idea was it to take a sharp object and drag it across your face and call it professional looking?” Look no further than ancient Macedon and Alexander the Great, or as I now refer to him as the beardless fiend! It is said that he ordered his soldiers to shave their beards for fear of it being a handle for their enemies to grab onto. Some studies show that a law was passed against growing a beard, however this was not applied to the philosophers, due to a beard being a badge of their trade.


The Romans, being fairly similar to the greeks, did not see a barber until 299 BCE. The barber was brought in by none other than Scifio Africanus. This trend of being clean shaven in the Roman culture quickly caught on. Some viewed having a beard to be Greek and a clean shaven to be more Roman. Kinda funny considering modern day Italians are known for being fur bearing mammals. However, this did not stop men from growing their beards. Granted they were more rare and mostly just with the farmers who would shave when they came into time, it was a custom to grow a beard in a time of mourning. However, it is also rumored that the emperor Hadrian was the first of all the caesars to grow a beard to cover the scars on his face. To be honest we all know if he had a beard to begin with, there wouldn’t have been any scars there to cover up.

The Rest of History…ish

In order to save time, I am going to skip ahead a few centuries (more like a millennia) to the middle ages. The beard was a symbol of a knight’s honor. If you were to hold another man’s beard, it was a serious case of “touch this beard and die” because it was the grounds for a duel. Throughout the rest of history the trends of clean shaven and bearded go back and forth from really long to clean shaven again.


There are a vast amount of styles of beards, and considering that I don’t really have a lot of time (mostly patience to research all of them for a blog I’m not getting paid to write) I am going to stick to a few more popular styles and variations. NOTE: This is about beard styles NOT mustaches. Those who have mustaches are barely able to claim the right to having facial hair. Only a few men have ever been able to pull off just the mustache. Among them are: Tom Sellic, Carrey Elwes, Hulk Hogan, & Nick Offerman a.k.a. Ron Swanson. All other men stay away from the nose tickler/lip warmer. Mustaches have been proven to make you look like a man of “questionable nature”.

-Full Beard

This is the most easy to spot.  This beard covers the face. There is nothing more to it.This Particular beard is very popular amongst many groups. For instance the metal heads. This beard is long and whiplike. It has been forged for one purpose and one purpose only: thrash dancing. Be weary if you are in the pit with one of these. They have been rumored to be armed much like a cat of nine tails. One swipe with this beard and you are out for the count! Aside from the metal heads there are the preppier/business men who decide to go with the half beard. This works well with the work place because it is easy to maintain, and it also sends a message to the ladies of “I may be mostly clean, but I still have a touch of that traditional rugged man.” There is the traditional “lumberjack” beard. This made popular by the one and only Keenen Brown, the Alaskan Polar Bear. This can be short or long, but goes really well with plaid and a chainsaw. If you have a winter cap to go with it better! There is a trendy “cousin” to the “lumberjack”. It is fairly similar to however it is characterized by being slightly more unkept. WARNING! Be very careful to maintain the trendy full beard. There is a fine line between trendy and homeless. DO NOT CROSS THIS LINE!

-Goatee/Mustache Combo

This is a very popular style. It is also called “The Padlock” because of its shape. It is characterized by the mustache growing into the chin hair as well. Be weary when this gets long, because if those sides of your mustache curl up and your goatee gets longer you could look like a French fiend. Don’t believe me ask Mel Gibson. Many people sport this and it works nicely. Be sure to maintain this, you don’t want to end up like Brad Pitt. Somehow he still managed to make this beard look homeless. Again there is a fine line between trendy and homeless. Side Note: The soul patch is not real facial hair. If anything all you are showing everyone is that you missed a spot when shaving on your chin.

-Mutton Chops

This style is also referred to as “Piccadily Weepers”. This is characterized by growing the sideburns out onto the cheeks. In fact if you think about it, it is essentially the opposite of growing a goatee/mustache combo. This was made popular mostly the folks on the island nation in the atlantic, Tobin Bawinkel from Flatfoot 56 and Hugh Jackman and Liev Schreiber from X-Men Origins: Wolverine. These things are perfect for sending the message “I am ok with getting in to a brawl with my pint in one hand and your face meeting the other!” or the message “I can’t be killed and I have pointy objects that randomly fly out of the back of my hand so watch it!” Either way you really don’t see these sported much around the office. Be careful when sporting these, barroom brawls have been known to randomly break out.


The beard, albeit furry, manly, etc., is just as big a piece of the world’s history as is anything else that could be considered a fashion. It was a part of culture then and still is now. The styles change minutely, but all remain relatively unchanged. The mustache is still nothing you should tamper with. it is dangerous and only a few men can survive the bundle of trouble it brings.

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