In part 1010 of my 1100-part series, Better Know a Beard, we meet a podcaster and web developer who—
Wait, didn't I profile Chris Miller in the previous installment? Oh, this is another web developer who has appeared on multiple podcasts. Right. Got it. Where was I?
The first thing one ought to know about David Moore is that he does not regularly sport a beard.1 The second thing one ought to know is that David is the co-host of The Game Master Show, which is billed as "the best RPG podcast with glowing teddy bears". David also maintains a blog, Virtual Thoughts from eRoom-D, which is largely concerned with web development and game design.2
David may or may not have had something to do with the cancellation of Firefly, but he almost certainly was involved with After Serenity a roleplaying game campaign set in the same universe as Joss Whedon's ill-fated television series.3
David lives in Illinois with his wife, children and dirigible.
1His wife won't let him.
2I know what you're thinking: there's a Venn diagram waiting to happen.
3No, the other one.
The Writer speaks of himself in the third person. The Writer did not, sadly, have a pipe with which to also pose.
The Writer, who is not really much of a writer at all but fancies himself to be one nonetheless, sits all day and watches his fourteen thousand word deficit dwindle to but eighty-nine hundred and change. He rejoices in the ease with which words flow as his plots begin to unravel, for they were so difficult to ravel in the first place.
He has earned himself a Rock Band break. And also, a pie break. And so he does not have much time for concocting beard prose or poetry. He is, however, rather proud of his previous effort and also his embellishing of Better Know a Beard: Kris Johnson. He hopes you have read and enjoyed both.
He also hopes that you will be so inspired by either his words, and by this of course he means the words from previous posts, or by the becoming thickness of his beard that you will sponsor him so that he may not wallow in mediocrity, even though he may recognize that as his lot.
He also apologizes to his English teachers for his run-on sentences. He knows it's wrong and yet he continues to write them. He intends to call it style.
Puh, puh, please?!?!?
Alright people. I'm officially losing a beard growing competition and the person directly ahead of me lacks the ability to grow a beard. This is entirely not right (although completely expected and maybe even proper).
It was a slow podcasting month for me, unfortunately. I got the two episodes out that I promise my listeners each month (haven't missed that deadline in over three years now), but the most recent episode released, oh, a few hours ago, leaving people about 30 hours (that could be wrong, I've been active today and it has left me too tired to do any math, even simple math) so who knows if my pleas for sponsorship on that episode will garner anything at all. Although when recording it a few days ago the guest promised to donate, and evidence implies that he did so (Thanks to Phil Menard).
So I guess what I'm saying is...sponsor me. Were you going to give to some other, facial-hair-challenged member of this competition? Well fertilizing that field isn't going to get them anywhere. Me, however, my cheek brushes could use the assist.
What are you waiting for? Huh?
In my ears: MacBreak Weekly (from last week...darn, missed a chance for a free audiobook from Audible)
Beard level: Lip beard is raising it's annoyance level by being extra pokey, whereas the cheeks are annoying for not filling out. They never do, I shouldn't be surprised, I just thought that since it's for a good cause for once (thrice actually, I used to organize a beard-growing competition for homeless shelters at my old school) they would show up, but they have not.
Sponsor of the day: Daniel Perez, not because he's donated, but to maybe get his attention and then hope that he'll donate (I should have been doing this all along...drat). ;-)
Big Butter Jesus has my back.
The month is winding down quickly, so I need to find bearded reinforcement wherever I can. That's why I chose to spend Day 28 receiving divine follicular inspiration from one of the most distinctive of my near-hometown landmarks, the Hemi-Corpus Jesus Golem.
Officially christened (hah) the King of Kings, this misguided monster of spiritual "inspiration" sits, beseeching both Heaven and Interstate 75, in front of the Solid Rock Church in Monroe, OH.
Since it's construction in 2004, the statue has garnered several more descriptive nicknames, including Touchdown Jesus (for obvious reasons), Big Butter Jesus (for it's resemblance to a massive butter sculpture), Quicksand Jesus (again, for obvious reasons), among others. I've taken to calling it the Hemi-Corpus Jesus Golem, given it's similarity to people who have undergone a hemicorporectomy procedure, and my suspicion that it's true purpose is to become an animated instrument of vengeance that, someday soon, will drag itself across I-75 and pound the Hustler store there into dust with it's cross-sledge.
It has even been immortalized in song by regional comedian Heywood Banks.
Hemi-Corpus Jesus Golem, may my donations be many, and my crackling virility hedge grow in thick and full!
Sensation: the brisk wind bothers not my face
Palpation: the soft face-mat continues its self-weaving process
Personal satisfaction rating: 3.5 (out of 5 hemi-Norsemen)
Amazed!
There is a certain lack of follicles on the left side of my neck. But, it has nothing to do with me. It's all the razors fault. Or maybe it's the shaving cream. Could it possibly be the mirror playing tricks on me while I attempt to trim?
Okay, so it seems that the shape of things(me) has affected the outcome of the end results of the appearance of my beard.
The required amount of total donations to rectify this problem is unknown to me, but I'm sure that every bit helps.
Welcome to the Beard Zone
For today, let's dispense with the geek machismo and contemplate this: 12 individuals. 11 beards. One goal: $2500. Current total: $1,801.25.
That's about $700 remaining, or about $60 per person. If 24 people step up, pick a beard, and donate $30, we'll be there. So if you've enjoyed this little jape so far, ask yourself: have you donated? Is $30 really too much for supporting mammary health? I think not. There are 2 days remaining. Please donate.
And those that have already given, thank you. This beard is for you.
In part eleventy-three thousillion of my twelve-part series, Better Know a Beard, we meet a man who moved back to Cleveland. Alas, there is neither enough time in the month nor are there enough letters in the alphabet to fully explore the psychological peculiarities that would compel a man to do such a thing.
Chris Miller is many things: husband, father, codeshaman, coffee snob, Mac owner, overlord, podcaster and reformed LARPer. He is also a thinking man, and occasionally his thoughts can not be contained within the boundaries of his own mind. When Chris releases his thoughts, he does so at Unquiet Desperation, where a sufficiently curious and resourceful person might also find episodes of a podcast by the same name.
Chris may well be the most co-dependent (or perhaps cooperative) man alive. He has co-hosted no less than four podcasts and co-founded Podiobooks.com, where can be found more than 360 free audiobooks.
Oh, those co-podcasts?
- The Round Table from The House of the Harping Monkey, a discussion of mythology as it relates to popular culture in general and roleplaying games in particular. Co-hosted with Mick Bradley and Kris Johnson.
- Shadowdance, an exploration of alternate spirituality. Co-hosted with Michelle Belanger.
- The NaNoMonkeys, featuring tips and tricks for participants of National Novel Writing Month. Co-hosted with P.G. Holyfield, Mur Lafferty and Kris Johnson.
- The Secret Lair, the adventures of two thirty-something midwestern geeks in their quest for tri-county domination. Co-hosted with Kris Johnson.
Chris lives near Cleveland with his wife, three children, and MacBook.
Off Kilter for sure.
I am for sure going to have to consult the mirror tomorrow night with a bit more vigor and trim the extra(leftover) from one side to "even" it all out.
Do people actually notice when I'm talking to them and then decide not to stare at the total lopsidedness of my beard?
Time to even things out...
I was going for exhausted, but got the crazy eyes again instead
As the month of intense beard growth begins to wind down, it's only natural to reflect back on what has passed.
If they're anything like me, the other men and woman of questionable beard growth on this site have all learned a bit about themselves along the way. I've learned that madness isn't really so bad. You fear it; you feel it encroaching on your consciousness like a malevolent being as the itch takes you to the breaking point, but then there's suddenly a soothing calm. The world almost begins to make sense to your addled brain. You post a poorly thought out retort that seems to inadvertently change the tenor of the shared website.
And then, there is the rush at the end; the Thanksgiving preparations, the push to make those hairs sprout just that little bit further, the pathetic begging for sponsorship, the waiting to be profiled in Better Know a Beard, the ridiculous word count that you have to maintain to finish your first NaNoWriMo after five failed attempts. This all conspires to bring you crashing back to reality and you begin to contemplate the razor.
The razor, the finely sharpened metal edge that bookends November. The warden of your beard, the savior of your neck. The razor awaits you at the end of your journey. Will you greet it? Will you shun it? Will you savor its bite as your skin, now unaccustomed to its daily machinations, offers up its very life blood to the razor?
December will tell. After just three more days.
Please be generous to Cmartender. Beard is hard to grow.
...and, in part, the artifacts in their abode.
Day 27 found me catching up with with family within the venerable walls of a structure that contains many a childhood memory - my grandparents' house in Norwood, OH. One feature of this treasured domicile is the numerous wall-relics and ancient signage adorning the basement, where many hours were spent around the great convertible alter of pool and ping-pong. Here, I pose with one particular sign that taught me four early life lessons that I carry with me to this very day:
1. bartenders are a valuable, hardworking lot, and should be treated with great respect and tippage
2. a hand-painted wooden sign simply cannot be beat for engaging the senses and conveying messages of import
3. Pabst Blue-Ribbon Beer, under the right advertising circumstances, appears to be a refreshing and tasty beverage
4. there is very little truth in advertising
Sensation: the Ohio River's breeze may be frigid, but this face is warm
Palpation: although light on the cheeks, the feathery softness is pleasing
Personal satisfaction rating: 3.5 (out of 5 American lager-drinking Norsemen)