I Knew A Man Called Michael Finnegan..........

(Blessed Are The Big Noses).

Well? Waddya think? Hmmmm? Rugged? Sexy? Intellectual? Indiana Reg-ish? Hmmm?........... No, you're right, I just look like a tramp!!!
I have been suffering from man-flu (I may just have mentioned it once or twice) and the viral nasties have stopped me reaching for my razor since Tuesday. As the growth continued but my health improved I decided to keep away from my TurboBroadsword Z7000ShavyMax-For-Men (and David Beckham)deliberately, just to see what the result would look like.
Well, tomorrow will be B-Day - to beard or not to beard? It has got to that stage where I am just a day or so away from having a recognisable beard but at the same time I am only one bloodless and painless shave away from a return to the old Reg. What to do?
As I said earlier, I think the way ahead is clear. It's got to come off! Instead of looking distinguished or intrepid or even vaguely studious I just look like.........well......a bloke who hasn't had a shave! I would probably be prepared to settle for plain "beardy" but even if I let it take hold a bit more I know that the end result would be more Catweazle than Cat Stevens.
God has not been kind to me, follicly speaking. First of all, He decreed that as time went by and the hair in my ears and up my nose began to blossom, bush-wise, the hair on my head should disappear to compensate. I thought I had thwarted his attempt to make me completely physically repulsive to all women in later life when the shaved-head or "grade" look became all the rage. It was trendy for us own-up-baldy types to have our hair cropped right down, a la the Marines, and so I went ahead and had a grade. Instead of looking cool, a bit like Ray Winstone or someone similar, I just looked like a recruitment officer for Combat 18. In short, a thug - a hooligan.
I decided to grin and bear the indignities of what life had in store for me - it's called male pattern baldness - but not so long back my confidence was not given a gigantic boost when I was in a pub and went to the bar, to hear one of my friends behind me shout "Oi, Cadfael! Get me a beer!"
No, the beardy look has got to go. Henceforth, baldness and bad beards shall belong only to people in Grantham (the men as well).