A couple of Saturdays ago most of my tribe were watching “The Voice” on TV. It’s crap but harmless crap. The exception was my eldest boy Ed who was at Uni involved in the initiation ceremony for the freshers at the university rugby club. I dread to think what that was all about but no doubt many eye brows were shaved off, a vast quantity of alcohol was consumed and there was much dropping of trousers. There were a great many full moons in East Anglia that night!
Anyway, one of my lot, suitably impressed by the beard Sir Tom Jones was sporting, suggested that I grow one.
So I thought, “Why not? It’s winter, I’m outside a lot, a beard would keep my face warm. I would look like one of my heroes, the polar explorer, mountaineer and general nutcase, Sir Ranulph Fiennes.”
So I’ve not shaved for a couple of weeks. Unfortunately, like the rest of the hair on my head, my whiskers get bored with growing so after a few days they stopped growing. However, some got bored more quickly than others, some didn’t like the cold and stopped growing almost immediately while the outdoorsy whiskers just kept right on growing. The result so far looks like the kind of nest a squirrel would build after smoking a spliff! Not a good look. I will persevere and let you know how it gets on.
Have a great day
More Dick soon
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