This picture is dedicated to Jeremiah McCoy from the Basics of the Game podcast (and the DM of tonight's game).
Tonight is game night.
I'm almost dead...several times. Plus we sort of kind of brought a goddess back from the dead.
Good times had by all.
Listening to: Discussion of 4e rules.
Beard level: Softening fuzzy-like. Going to shave the neck this weekend, it's getting itchy.
Sponsor of the day: You!
From looking at me can you tell I'm stuffed up?
Woke up stuffed up and sounding like Mr. Squidward.
So I took a couple doses of airborne during the day and sounded like Tom Petty on the way home from work.
Isn't spring the time for ferns?
I think all the Miracle-Gro I've been drinking is starting to have an unexpected result (the daily trips to Poison Control, on the other hand, are completely expected). As you can see from this picture, I'm starting to grow strange green ferns out of my shoulders. They also seem to have a soporific effect on me, as I can barely keep my eyes open.
I will continue to document this odd behavior if I can. I fear, however, that I will end up like Stephen King in Creepshow. As the planet may be at stake, I heartily urge my friends and family to bringeth forth the napalm and Agent Orange, and don't spare the Roundup.
Cow licks are in this season, right?
And, yes, I'm wearing the same clothes. No, I have not yet raised any money.
The Bearded and the Grampa. Birds of a Feather, one old and one good lookin'.
So, the folks are in town for the weekend, so I had to pull my dad, the Grampa Goose, into the picture for today. Handsome couple, ain't we!
This is the look of a man who just spent an hour failing to find words for his novel.
"There can be no mistake," she said leaning into the microphone slightly from the witness stand. "That's him."
"How can you be so sure?" asked the defense attorney.
"I watched him kill a rhinoceros with his beard. You don't forget a beard like that."
"Do you honestly expect this court to believe that the defendant poached a five thousand pound, thick skinned, savagely behorned and foul tempered animal with just his facial hair?"
A murmur went around the crowd. The judge banged his gavel and called for order.
The witness stood up and shouted, "That beard is an abomination. It must be destroyed!"
"Order!" called the judge, striking his gavel with increasing ferocity. "I will have order in my courtroom!"
Undeterred, she continued, "It'll kill us all! Please, you must stop it."
"Bailiff, take the witness into custody," said the judge.
Even as she was dragged screaming out of the courtroom, she continued her tirade. "You fools! You've damned us all! Heed my warning! Heed! Heee--"
Is this a scene from my future? Or just the ramblings of a diseased mind? Only history will tell us for certain.
This 6th day in the 11th month of the year 2009. I have pledged to grow, to the best of my ability, a beard of beards. And I shall not shave it off until such a time comes along that I deem fit.
For boobs! So send some money, it doesn't have to be to sponser my beard. Because it's all about the boobs.
Is that... is that... no, that's a mole on my neck. Dangit.
So I went out and bought hair cream. And some sand to rub on my face. And even caught a small woodland animal to skin in a manly woodsman way so I could build a fake beard if need be...
None of it worked. The sand exfoliated. The cream just softened. And the woodland creature was so sweet I had to let it go.
I wanted to be rough and manly like the men, even though I am secure in my womanly way to not grow a beard, which is the goal of this site, I just wanted to fit in. Just for a day.
This attempt at fake beardery took two days, and I failed, but I'm back now, older, wiser, and more honest. Here is my chin, without a manly whisker to be found.
It's behind me, isn't it?
As I believe you can see from this picture, I have achieved the fuzzy. The cheeks are lagging a bit behind the neck and chin, but that will come in time. Soon I will be simply hairy, like bear.
No, not that bear. Russian bear. Or in my case, half-Polish bear. Bring on the potato vodka. Tak.
First picture using the camera on the new laptop!
Today is the first day of the rest of my awesome life.
Since moving to North Carolina over a year ago I've opined regularly about how much I've sacrificed by not having a laptop in the house. I mean, sure, I have an awesome desktop iMac, but I wasn't able to accomplish many of my goals while still spending time with the family.
I've also struggled with technological resources while at work/school. The often antiquated at worst or difficult to work with and overly shielded systems available in the school district has been a regular source of frustration in my career.
Well, for my 30th birthday last month my parents gave me a big chunk of money towards a laptop to dramatically improve my lifestyle. I set myself a goal of losing 14 more pounds (putting me at 58 pounds lost since last spring) and then I would pay for the rest of the new machine and get it for myself. I lost that weight in 3 weeks, ordered on Oct. 31st and waited like a child in the week before Christmas.
The laptop left Shanghai, China yesterday morning around 10AM Eastern, according to FedEx, after it was built to my specifications. I was then informed that the expected delivery date was going to be November 10th, which was as I expected. By the time I got home from work yesterday FedEx said that the package had arrived in Alaska. By the time I awoke this morning it has completely passed through Memphis and arrived in town here in Raleigh, NC. By a bit after 7AM this morning it was in a truck headed to my wife's office where I picked it up from her directly after I got off work.
It sat on the desk for 3 hours while my old account and applications transferred over and now here I am with my brand spanking new, 17" MacBook Pro.
I just want to spend all my time playing...but I know I should use it right away to take care of all those projects I've been waiting to have a laptop to work on.
I've been geeking out all day and finally the day is here.
In my ears: SModcast
Beard level: Looking like legitimate scruff
Sponsor of the day: Today's post is in memory of Armi Olsen. She was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer under the age of 40, they thought she had successfully fought it. But it came back five years ago and she finally lost her battle with cancer a three years ago. Thanks to Theresa Roach for the commemoration and for supporting what we're doing here.
Alcohol-based hand sanitizer is a reasonable alternative to soap and water for killing bacteria and viruses. Uh, on your hands.
I wouldn't say that I'm "paranoid" about germs, or anything.
Instead, I prefer to think that my chosen line of work has left me with a wealth of detailed, not at all obsession-inducing, knowledge about bugs and our bodies. For instance: the total number of bacteria estimated to live on the skin of an individual human is upwards of 1012 organisms, depend on the collection method used. The influenza virus, when coughed onto a surface, can remain alive for hours, or even days in cold and wet conditions. 1 gram of feces can contain from 109 to 1011 bacteria. The primary way that viral respiratory infections, from the common cold to influenza, are contracted is not by inhaling particles out of the air, but rather by touching an infected surface and rubbing your eyes, nose, or mouth.
As such, the best thing anyone can do to prevent infections is to wash your hands at appropriate intervals. Not that I have a compulsion about hand-washing, of course. Or washing other things. Like my insides. Where all those bacteria are. But alcohol does, in point of fact, kill germs...
One thing that alcohol does not do is cause hair to grow, or else this Day 6 photo would feature a multi-foot chin beast, resplendent in the sun. Or, failing that, the fluorescent office lighting.
That said, lady and gentlemen, there is growth marching forward on this face of battle, and it cannot be stopped.
Senasation: neckline tickle-itch is now a less-comfortable bristle-itch
Palpation: soft but firm globally except for the anterior chin, which remains roughly stiff
Personal satisfaction rating: 2.5 (out of 5 Norsemen)
I totally used to live here!
Here's the view out of my apartment's window. I have a very swanky pad on the top of Queen Anne Hill and in the mornings this time of year, the Sun peaks out over the top of Mount Rainier and...
Yeah it's a picture. I bought it on the Space Needle like a TOURIST. Sheesh.
I totally ganked the progress bar image code from the B4B page. I'm a pIr8!
Completion Level (Day 6 of 30)
Beard Length (7%)
Itchiness Level (19%)
Overall satisfaction with progress (84%)
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MMMMM. BEEEEEEEEER.
It's beer o'clock!
That is all. You can see the beardage for yourself.
But I promise that I shaved on Halloween and haven't touched a razor since.
The beard. Rough. The look? Pure Billy Dee.
Amazingly, the growth is not itching nearly as much as it did last year. It's day six, and I do have the occasional itch, entirely manageable though.
For this picture, I am sure that @kjtoo will be making some comment on being smooth with the ladies. He's really just jealous though. Tomorrow, perhaps I will show him the Idol sneer as it is meant to be performed.
MMMMmhhhhhhmmmmmm.....
Friday has arrived!
Yeah, that's all I can come up with for now. Oh, crap! I have to call the mechanic! See ya!
Uphill! Both ways!
You kids today, with your Mach 3 Turbo razors and your lubricating strips and your ultra-frothy, hypo-allergenic shaving foam with essence of eucalyptus and aloe...it makes me sick.
Why, in my day, we shaved with the edge of a rusty scythe after working sixteen hours in the field cutting sorghum and horseweed! And aftershave! Boy, we didn't have any fancy smelling "Stallion Rut" or "Loin's Pride"; if it was a special occasion, we'd splash some grain alcohol on our raw, bleeding cheeks after we were done so we'd smell like something other than sweat and agony! It drove the ladies wild, let me tell you.
And when we turned twelve, we stopped shaving altogether! The naked face was a sign of weakness, and the first thing a young buck did once his voice started crackin' was to grow a beard. A beard thick and dense enough to deflect a Bowie knife and fearsome enough to stop a charging bull elephant dead in his tracks. And it didn't take no month to grow the thing, neither. In the time it takes a...what? Eh? MATLOCK!
OMINOUS
Reader,
This nation is in crisis. Someone has to do something about it, and perhaps that someone is me.
We're losing boobs at an alarming rate. This is an evil which cannot stand. Join me, rise up, raise that sponsorship, and let us eradicate the cancer that plagues the lovely mounds of flesh that bring such joy to young and old alike.
It's a work in progress. --Ed
Concentrate
Yes, I did some more manly things today to help my follicles sprout and be proud.
The question has to be posed: Is one able to think they're beard to grow more?
I am trying, every now and again, to think of things to help my beard along.
Fluffy bunnies. Fragrant clover. Bedazzling rainbows.
After an extended illness, it is a soul-refreshing thing to return to work. Toiling honestly in fruitful labor that is appreciated by all, and at every turn greeting by the stunning and well-disposed personages who felt your absence as but a vacancy in their very souls, now rendered complete and, nay, meaningful with your return. Today I was greeting by a parade of perfumed, be-ribboned midgets who danced intricate choreography around my gleeful form as a sign of welcome, after which a 7'8" man named Iakkov tossed rose petals about me in the air from a deep basket as though autumn had fast forwarded in but an instant to spring, and the trees had burst forth from their fall slumber to full April glory.
Ahhh, good times. Day 5 finds nothing but respect and camaraderie. Yup. Nothing but.
Senation: the neckline itch, although still present, is transitioning into a lovely tickle
Palpation: still rough about the Van Dyke region, but transitioning to soft and feathery in the mandibular region
Personal satisfaction rating: 3.5 (out of 5 Norsemen)