Dear Me, I Seem To Have Misplaced My Beard

No, actually, I washed it down the drain. Much to my wife's chagrin, I'm taking part in Movember again this year. For those of you not familiar, Movember is this thing where a bunch of dudes take November and we run the N out of town and replace it with an M. Kind of like October and Rocktober. Then we continue the party for the rest of the month by growing out our mustaches, and everybody gives us money in hopes that we'll stop it with the mustache action. About three weeks into it, we all sit down to a big-ass turkey dinner. It's called Thanksgiving because we give thanks for our beautiful mustaches that, by that point, are in full glorious bloom. Or maybe because people are thankful that it's almost over. Either way, when December arrives, we give all the money that everybody gave us to groups that fight cancer, but we don't give them the turkey dinner because we already ate that.

In order to do Movember right, you're supposed to start things off with a clean palate, which, for me,  meant parting with my beard. True, my beard is not as epic as that of my friend Bill (pictured below), but I was used to it. I like my beard. And yes, so does my wife.

Bill is a pirate

So in order to do this, I had to go from being this adorable sweetheart...

Wouldn't hurt a fly

To this fucking psychopath:

Obviously hacks people to pieces while humming along to Katy Perry

So yeah, Movember. Mustaches good, cancer bad, GIVE US YOUR MONEY!!!