The world is full of bearded, wise men. God they’ve seen some stuff. I mean really. Stuff. You wouldn’t understand.
Sometimes I have a beard. It’s at these times I’m at my wisest. Normally after a trek, after three days of travelling or after those times when I’ve been really lazy… sorry, I mean contemplating the world.
The point I’m making is this – with knowledge comes hair.
Unfortunately, Gemma tells me with hair comes responsibility; the responsibility to lather up your face, the responsibility to shave, and the responsibility to moisturise to name but a few. I’ve come up with so many excuses not to shave – all my razors are blunt, the hostel doesn’t have hot water, my face is cold – and nothing seems to deter her from wanting me to shave my intelligence off. Read the rest of this entry