Ok, maybe the light wasn't the best idea to display my growth...

It seems that the discussion of tending our mandibular lawns LIKE MEN ONCE DID has prompted a response, of sorts. I find it curious that said response contains many words, but no actual photographic proof of action to back said words up.

As such, on this lovely Day 9, I will not fall into some ill-advised language-based conflict with those who have chosen to "grow" their beards like boys now do. I instead show you my fuzzy progress, with some extra illumination to help you out.

Sensation: itch mostly receded, no trace of abnormal wind currents

Palpation: soft all about, with reducing peri-oral prickle factor

Personal satisfaction rating: 3 (out of 5 Norsemen)

Looks good!

Here I am, full-on neckbeard and proud of it.

While it is fully within the rules to shave off one's neckbeard, and do some trimming, I do personally hold in a greater light those who go completely untended all month.

I'd like a recount of the "LIKE MEN ONCE DID" people when Grandma's coming to Thanksgiving at the end of the month. Oh yeah. That's a gauntlet. Pick it up. I dare you.

The Lone Survivor

So here I am, thousand yard stare, as I have so far survived the horrors of the plague that has consumed my house. It is a liquid fire, vomited forth from the very gall bladder of ... well something. It's not pretty, unless you are talking about the growth of hair upon my cheeks. That is indeed handsome.

Just the Bearded Goose, all by his lonesome once again.

Yep, it's Monday and the work week has begun anew. Oh, if only I were abundantly wealthy and could stay at home while growing out the beard with no distractions other than the face-shooting fun that is the Thursday Night Olde Fartz™ game.

Ah well. Joys of livin', I suppose.

The kitchen.

The post is going up late, but the picture is authentic. The growth is going nicely, the itch is manageable.

Plus, a new background for you to look at.

I would like to address the detractors who have called into question the masculinity of those contestants with the good sense and decency to shave their neck hair early.

Gentlemen, you are meddling with forces you cannot possibly comprehend.

Though you may scoff, there is more at stake in the taming of the neckbeard than mere comfort or comeliness. Unchecked, the neckbeard elicits feelings of dread and horror. Women are gripped with paroxyms of primal terror, children flee screaming and even the most stalwart of men may be shaken to the point that he seeks comfort and guidance from sources without himself.

I offer Exhibit A, a photo of my unshaven neck taken late in the month last year; a photo so horrifying that one of our own contestants—a contestant who has less than a year later called me to task for trimming this area early in the contest—invoked a deity in response.

Don't look at it!

— Henry Walton Jones, Jr., noted Man of Science.

[P]ut that thing away or you'll get us all killed!

— Excerpt from a decree issued by a member of the Alderaanian Royal Family.

It is a simple matter to look upon us with scorn, for the unchecked neckbeard instills an inflated sense of self-worth in the man whose folly is to wear it. But I beseech you to look past your own ego and have some consideration for those around you. It is right and decent and merciful to shave the neckbeard; I would go so far as to say that it is your solemn duty as men to do so.

The neckbeard is not to be trifled with, gentlemen; it is a thing to be squelched at all costs. At stake is not mere masculinity, but humanity.

I took this picture on the 9th, but didn't have the time to post it here. So here it is, late, so people can look at the archives and see the progress.

My God, it's full of ceiling

I was beaten to the punch by Dr. Cmaaarrr. I, too, had intended to call out those among us &mdash let's charitably call them "quitters" — who have succumbed to such trivial pressures as the FEROCIOUSOHMYGODITITCHES or so-called "societal norms".

I, too, strive to meet the greater challenge of FULL NECKBEARD ownership within the month of November. LIKE MEN ONCE DID.

I don't have as much beard fertilizer sponsorship as the bad doctor, but what I do have is pluck.

A week's worth of work - not too shabby.

There has been talk on this Day 8, and even some straight-edged follow-through, of trimming the necklines by some participants. This is all well and good, and within the rules.

That said, I am inspired by the amazing generosity of those who have sponsored my own facial efforts, and everyone who has donated thus far. You demand more, and I intend to give it to you. As such, I am announcing that I will be growing my beard this month:

LIKE MEN ONCE DID.

The LIKE MEN ONCE DID rules variant retains the core principles of HoNoToGroABeMo, but excludes the less manly add-on rules for comfort and appearance, namely trimming the neckline for comfort and other areas for length. It's not like I look down upon those who do for their puerile concessions to grooming during a month when the point is that we are not supposed to be grooming-

Oh. Wait. I do.

The gauntlet is thrown. I continue to be humbled by my generous sponsors, so my beard will grow unsnipped this month. Can you say the same?

Sensation: neckline prickle-itch is beginning to subside

Palpation: feathery softness globally, including the chin

Personal satisfaction rating: 3 (out of 5 Norsemen)

Itch? Tickle maybe, but no itch.

My body is repairing itself from some bug of sorts.

This of course means, that all the energy that was supposed to be on reserve for beard growing, has now been diverted elswhere. Well some of it at least.

You lookin' at me?

So here it is Day 8, and Cmar continues to dominate the charts with his fundraising prowess. I have decided that this is not because of his vast connections through the Interweb, nor because of his overwhelming charm and personality, but because of "The Stare." People see his photos and have an overwhelming urge to empty their wallets, if only to make it stop, make him look away, the eyes, the eyes, for God's sake just close that browser!

So here is my contribution to the "I'm a muppet/prosthetic-headed monstrosity/staring fiend" photographic oeuvre. Hopefully it will inspire you to do the right thing.

Close up.

Last year I challenged myself. The rules of this game are such that it's participants are allowed to shave their necks (neckbeards not required) and other minor trims for comfort and appearance are allowed.

But 12 months ago I decided, no. I grow a beard on an almost daily basis. I often go several days in a row. There is no challenge for me if I follow the rules. So I gave myself the challenge worthy of an epic individual such as myself. I didn't shave the neck the entire month.

That was painful.

Itchy. Scratchy. Painful.

I figured, "it's okay", I told myself, "It will pass like all things and get to a point where I can tolerate it. It'll only be bad for a week or two.

I misjudged. The annoyance of the neckbeard lasts from about day 4 where it is an annoying tingle, through day 15 where it is a constant reminder of your own nerve endings, past day 20 when you want to claw the hair-growing flesh from your throat, and on to day 28 where it starts to get better...or you just get used to it and have gone a little mad as a result.

So I have proven myself. My manliness is in tact. I even kept the neckbeard through the next month. I am an incredible individual, it is true.

So this year, I am not going to bother challenging myself in this way. Today I shaved my neck. I feel better already.

Listening to: Cake

Beard level: Respectable Scruff

Sponsor of the day: My dog, General Dwight D. Eisenhower. We just call him Ike. I'm giving the sponsorship to a dog. Don't you feel bad that it's not you.

Go fart, MFAH!

Here I am diligently working on my NaNovel. I am oddly (for me) keeping up with the daily goal with little aberration. I am currently about 100 words more than the official "day 8" goal of 13,333 words

The sticker on my laptop that reads "MFAH" is not a L33TSP33K way to say something most often heard by Samuel L Jackson. It actually stands for "Museum of Fine Arts, Houston" where I was about a month ago.

My shirt, incidentally, does not read "GO FART" but I'm not going to tell you what it does say. Why? No reason. I just don't feel like it.

I know what you're thinking: where have you been for the past three days, Johnson?

Well, it's a bit difficult to take photos of your beard when you've had your face shot off. I blame the Olde Fartz, my group of beechwood-aged PC gaming buddies, who spent several hours Thursday evening blasting my dashing avatar to bits.

I got better.

The photo here shows that I've already undergone a vital neck shave, necessary to ensure that the few scattered hairs that sprouted in the region didn't drive me stark raving bonkers with The Itch.

The photo also shows, in shocking detail, precisely the problem I have with growing a beard, even given thirty days to complete it: sparseness. My chin and cheeks are not covered with a dense mat of hair; rather, there are several minor follicolonies—each ultimately as doomed as Roanoke—spread out over the vast, pink plain that is my face. I fear they will not survive the harsh winter ahead...

In other news, I found one mutant, albino mega-hair lurking just beneath my chin before I shaved. It was unnerving, to say the least.

Bearded and Junior Geese. Yep, we're that good lookin'.

Yes, sirs and ladies, we have here the younger generation posing with his pappy. I showed you the older of us geese. Well, here's the younger. And, though he's only 12 years of age, he is already sprouting darker hair on the upper lip. And no, my wife informs me, he's not doing 'Stache4Boobs.

Seems to be coming along nicely. After a day of family tech support, I got a classy lookin' haircut from the wife, but expressly forbade her from touching my facefur. I've officially entered the itchy stage, which is where I usually end up shaving.

Not this time, though. I'm on a mission. I'm on a hairy, itchy, manly mission. And no one will stand in my way.

P.S. Jeff, I hope you're digging your new MacBook Pro. Enjoy it while it lasts, buddy, 'cause Natania's MacBook will likely be on its fourth HDD be week's end.

Sushi!

They say sushi makes the beard grow.

And by they, I mean me. Right now.

In any case, it tastes awesome and that's all I care about.

You may recognize that handsome man next to me. He may be posting his Day 7 picture soon as well.

Greyhounds don't have much hair, either

As if I didn't have enough going on this week with the bearding and the novelling, I'm also dogsitting for my brother who is in the Caribbean. On a boat.

Had I not promised to keep my posts PG-13ish, that last sentence would have had Sambergesque language in it. Imagine that it did.

So, this is Chance. He's a rescue greyhound; he'd broken his left rear leg in training and so he didn't actually do any racing.

When we arrived home this evening, we found that he'd had an accident in his cage; this despite our having taken him outside for his business a few short hours earlier. That is why you may notice a few beads of sweat on my forehead. We just got done cleaning house and washing dog.

It's our first time having a dog for any length of time, and I have to say, for the most part, he's been great. The cats have even mostly adjusted to him, but our schedule and his schedule just don't jive. We've not had much sleep.

It's warm. Like a blanket.

Day 7-

A week wishin' and hopin' and thinkin' and prayin' has paid off. The chin whiskers are about an inch long. Sadly, the beard is pure white and blue and my skin has attained some sort of glow.

Now, I won't say I've been hanging outside the nuclear power plant in hopes to modify my genetic makeup so i can grow hair on my face. I won't say I broke inside, either. Or caused that meltdown you read about yesterday.

I'm also not peeing a bright orange that melted our toilet. I'm unsure of how to tell Jim I've finally gotten a superpower or three.

A beard? Who, me?! A felt creature cannot grow a beard!

One interesting side effect of shaving off longstanding facial hair is the number of people who realize something's changed about me, but aren't exactly sure what. The most popular comment among those who don't recognize the follicular absence has been "Wow, Dr. Cmar... have you lost weight?" (don't I wish a notable number of pounds were shed along with my whiskers) followed closely by "Are you feeling ok? You look run down..." (true, given my current recuperative state from an influenza-like illness, but not precisely what they were meaning).

Since today, in addition to being Day 7, is also National Bookstore Day, Laura and I headed to Constellation Books to celebrate. There, I tried to find a better disguise than merely "shorn." Unfortunately, I don't think that "bearded muppet" is something I should be attempting to pull off.

Sensation: that thorny neckline itch means manly growth

Palpation: soft but firm globally except for the anterior chin, which still remains roughly stiff

Personal satisfaction rating: 2.5 (out of 5 Norsemen)