So This Is It

Post #1,000.

I have nothing planned to commemorate the occasion. A music video montage of the last five years? I have five kids, I don't have time to make that. A cool prize giveaway? I have five kids, I don't have the money to buy that. A poetic ode to the legacy of my blog? I have five kids, I don't have the brain power to write that.

You'll have to settle for that picture of me with my creepy beard and single tear.

So this is it. Post #1,000. Yee-haw!

I hope you've enjoyed reading. I hope you're only stalking me and my family in that good sort of stalking way. I hope you'll stick around for the next five years.

Maybe I'll do a giveaway for my 2,000th post. Yeah, that's what I'll do.

Sláinte!

It Is an Odd Year

The beard is back. Yes THE beard. If you know me well enough in real life or if you've read this blog long enough, you know what the beard means.

And You Thought My Facial Hair Was Bad

Hey kid.  You like candy?

God bless you, Ryan. Thanks to this 'stache, Julie will have a harder time making the case against my own facial hair.

Yes.  Face pubes rule.

Let the porn star/predator/mountie jokes commence.

Update: Apparently Ryan is in the running for the straight-to-DVD sequel to Paul Blart: Mall Cop.

Smooth as a Baby's Bottom

"When a resolute young fellow steps up to the great bully, the world, and takes him boldly by the beard, he is often surprised to find it comes off in his hand, and that it was only tied on to scare away the timid adventurers." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

In a matter of minutes, I went from hair to bare. Yes, I grow a terrible beard, but man, I look like a twelve year old now.



Here's the time lapse of how it went down (with some Guided By Voices for your listening pleasure). I almost stopped at the 'stache. Almost. (That beauty is on display at about the 1:40 mark.)



And check out this apropos gem I pinched from LiLu over at Live It, Luv It.

Goodbye

Once I left my job to become a stay-at-home-dad, I decided I was going to quit shaving for awhile. With a new baby on the way, "not shaving" turned into growing a "playoff beard" until the baby was born. Well, now the baby has been successfully delivered and that means it's time to bid adieu to my food catching, security alerting, playground mom disturbing bristles.

Good bye, Beard. You subjected me to many an Amish or face vagina joke, struck fear in the hearts of small children and attracted law enforcement scrutiny in public places, especially outside of elementary schools. But that's not to say you didn't grow on me. Despite our somewhat adversarial relationship, I'm sad to see you go.

Stay the coarse my follicular friend. Maybe one day we'll meet again.