And with that, the glorious month of Manuary has come to an end once more. 30 days of beard, celebrated in the name of our lord Cockstrong, have came and gone like the whiskers of the mighty Siberian. I look back now at the things I've done in these 30 days of testosterone and at the things I've failed to do; my accomplishments as a man and my faults. I list them here:

My beard was not once trimmed, shaved, or styled in any manner. Neither was any of my "other hair" for that matter. Praise be the Men.
There was an abundance of flannel and plaid. Praise be the Men.
I organized a following. Praise be the Men.
Liquors were put away, and much beer was drank. Cheap bear, quality beer, no matter. Praise be the Men.
Sports... they were watched. Praise be the Men.
Sex was bountiful and exploratory. Praise be the Men.

And where have I failed my brethren?

Not once did I ice fish. Forgive me my brothers.
My time in garages speaking on engines was not what it could have been. Forgive me my brothers.
There was not an incident of fisticuffs. Forgive me my brothers.
I did not sit and view upon the wise Grizzly Adams or the mighty Macgyver. Forgive me my brothers.
Logs were not chopped, nor boulders heaved. Forgive me my brothers.

1 Comment:

  1. Genie said...
    Lol. I was reading a couple of posts.
    Humorous. Nice. =)

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