it seems that I have, quite by accident, grown a beard. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe it miraculously sprung up overnight, that would be silly, but I think it might have been sneaking up on me slowly over the last week or two whilst I have languished and enjoyed a fortnight’s holiday.
Alas though it is not a bear of much note. It is not a magnificent shag of a thing – full and glistening and well oiled. It is not styled or quaffed to accentuate my jawline nor is it the type that one might wear accompanied by the type of shirt a lumberjack may prefer.
No, it is none of these things and it does not in any way make me look trendy, sophisticated, well travelled or likely to be found sipping a rather pleasant coffee somewhere with free wi-fi.
It is instead a scratch homeless person affair which serves only to make me look like an ageing alcoholic with an aversion to bathing.
Year round, I am smooth cheeked and shaven headed for the most part and in fact I am usually rather thuggish looking in my appearance given the combination of the skin head and my tattoos. If I was to characterise my looks as a political party, then I would most certainly be Donald Trump’s right leaning Republicans.
It worsens though, because in addition to the accidental beard I also seem to have somehow acquired a ludicrous unintentional mop of hair curly hair to accompany it. So much of a surprise is it that I do not recall how I styled my hair when I was last in possession of any.
If my previous self was to be imagined as a statue-protecting-bed-sheet-wearing Republican then my current self is more likely to be caught in a very dirty pot fuelled three way with Bill and Hilary Clinton.
So what to do? I think I shall ponder my accidental beard and the accompanying unintentional hair and let you know what i decide to do, because the wife says she rather likes it.
Want to read more of my stuff? No. Don’t blame you, no offence taken.
Photo courtesy of Pexals @ pixabau