Lay off the Beard! Yo. (Does “yo” usually have a period after it or exclamation point?)

People are so wrong when they say I grew a beard. I didn’t. I just stopped shaving and the beard grew by itself. Really, it’s a big difference to me.

It’s like getting cancer, and people cooing, “Oh, I heard you got yourself a big case of cancer.”

“No, no, no,” the cancer got in me. I didn’t stand there saying, “Bring it on or anything.”

If I could have a face as smooth as well, my own head, that would be great. For one, I’d save money on razors. For two I’d save a lot of time.

Time explaining that this beard is a huge burden. For one, people will think I’m a dirty hippie. That’s only half true. I might be dirty, but I hate hippies. Each time, I see a police officer I keep thinking they are going to frisk me for drugs or something. I want to be extra nice to the police saying, “Hey guys, I’m on your side. OK?”

Also, I keep thinking that people will think that I am smarter than I am or at least more pretentious and that’s a lot of pressure on me, though I have no idea why.

Also, I fear they might think I’m Freud or at least one of his lame imitators who thinks he Freud. I hate Freud. I have theory about Freud actually. I think that he was actually flat out retarded or at least more like some kind of idiot savant who’s only skill was putting together strings of complete sentences on paper. The senteces are complete in that they all have subjects and verbs. It’s not hard to make all your sentences grammatically complete every single time. Usually.

I’m so pissed about this beard that whenever someone talks about my beard, I immediately deny it and tell the basically what I wrote above. Most of it anyway. This leads to them rapidly changing the subject for some reason as if they can’t deal with the truth that this awful beard snuck up on like economic collapse.

Even worse are those people who don’t mention the beard at all. Last time I see them I have a smooth face, then it is suddenly bearded. You’d think that they would at least acknowledge it or something. Instead it sort of sits on the edges of conversation ignored like the homeless person on the street corner.

It gives me the idea that people don’t look at my face for some reason. God, I thought I was ugly before, but now that I have this beard, people really give it to me. I wish they’d just let up on me just a little. I mean, my face might look like a barbershop at the end of the day, but for the love of God, I’m human. At least, I’m not a god damned hippie.

So in summary, if you see me, and notice the beard here’s what I want:

1. Acknowledge the beard in a kind neutral manner. Don’t compliment it. It might hear you and stary around. I can tolerate light criticism. It makes for a better humerous comeback that I have memorized and rehearsed a million times.

2. When I complain about the beard, STAY ON TOPIC. Don’t look away as if I am some kind of leper.

3. Don’t make such a big deal about the beard. IT’S NOT A BIG DEAL. OK. So stop talking about it all ready. I’m sick of people who disrespect me!


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