…ok, well, it never really went away.
In fact, it’s growing. And, quite frankly, it’s freaking me the hell out. Stop it.
As all 7 of you know, Bearduardo made his first appearance a few months ago and has overstayed his welcome. At first, I was lenient. Curious, even. And you know, I gotta admit, Brian does look pretty damn good for a rugged, bearded manly boyman when Bearduardo is tamed and behaving himself. Observe:
I don’t quite know what’s happened, but this hairy alien leech growing on Brian’s lower face region is…exploring the space. Bearduardo has reached maturity and apparently wants to be set free out into the world. Sow his wild thick, kinky oats. Sasquatch Cheeks has already stabbed me repeatedly in the upper lip, and that last time I was barely able to escape unscathed. It’s getting so precarious that I’m afraid to go to sleep at night. I have nightmares that long, rough, hairy tentacles will slink across the pillow and take me out of the equation so Brian and Bearduardo can have a long, happy, hairy life together. *shudder*
Since I’m convinced Beardy-Boy has grown ears beneath all that keratin, I have attempted to give Brian nonverbal feedback about the diabolical toll Bearduardo is taking as well as my growing discomfort and upchuck reflex. Observe:
And I haven’t even gone into how I find little Bearduardo droppings in my pink bathroom cup every other morning. Sigh.
Look, I’ve seen Little Shop of Horrors and I know how this story ends. I just hope I can get to the shaving cream before it’s too late.
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I do believe that when you start finding droppings, you have an infestation and should call an exterminator. And also a barber. My husband says that barber shaves are the best (I almost said ‘to die for’ but that seemed a little too Sweeny Todd) so maybe you should get him one? You know, as a gift.
What a wonderful idea (the barber) under normal circumstances. Unfortunately, I think this has reached the code red exterminator level. Or maybe I could trick him with the regular, non-threatening barber as a cover, and I go hire Sweeny Todd to brutally hack the beard off. Wow, this plot is getting violent. Better stop now.
Wrap his fingers in cotton so he can’t scratch his face when his beard gets itchy.
(I have a beard, and I go nuts when I can’t scratch it.)
Go on strike until Bearduardo capitulates! You choose the type of strike! ;o) Hehe! Anyways… Good luck with that! There’s a weird relationship between men and beard that I still don’t quite get to this day… Been with the man 19 years and he’s still trying to get me to like/accept it when he tries to grow what he calls a beard (he desperately wants facial hair and it’s pretty scarce). The strike thing works on him! I win! Lol!
Ooooh, STRIKE! What us Berkeley grads do BEST! Why didn’t I think of that?! Maybe I can strike with badgers by my side (see previous comment). In all seriousness, he can experiment with his facial hair cuz I experiment with my hair all the time…hair does strange things to people.
I know you rejected my brilliant idea of countering with a beard of bees, but obviously drastic measures are needed. I would suggest putting up a protective barrier around you with a sign “No beards allowed”
I have a deathly fear of bees, so unfortunately, that was out. Maybe a protective layer of angry badgers would do the trick.