I’ve been thinking a little bit about beards. No, I’ve been thinking a lot about beards.

The other day I drove past a hipster with a long beard. He couldn’t have been more than 23, but the combination of his overweight-ness, cutoff jeans, tuxedo print t-shirt and that longass beard gave him the appearance that he really didn’t give a fuck. Like he woke up in the morning,  took a big shit in his pajamas and then went to the kitchen to have sex with his grandfather. That’s stupid. I don’t know what that means, but I’m just trying to say he looked like he didn’t give a fuck at all.

I can relate to wanting the appearance of not giving a fuck; I’ve tried at different points throughout my life to look like I didn’t care about shit, but it’s always been derailed by the fact that I actually give many, many fucks. Too many fucks. It shows. For instance, whenever I try to grow a beard, I always stop somewhere in between the long five o’ clock shadow and the full beard, so I end up looking like George Clooney when he plays a dad.

This dude gives fucks and now he’s rich!

By the way, it’s funny how Wikipedia describes beards:

A beard is the collection of hair that grows on the chin, upper lip, cheeks and neck of human beings.

That doesn’t say anything about not giving a fuck. My cat has a beard, too. So fuck that. The Wikipedia entry mostly concludes that beards are considered wise, as people like philosopher Friedrich Engels and author Charles Dickens were bearded.

This writer has a beard, too:

If I was a cop I would pull Christian Kiefer over for marijuana possession and then get him to autograph my copy of The Infinite Tides.


I asked Christian Kiefer, the famous author of The Infinite Tides (and a wise man), about his beard:

Does your wife enjoy your beard. I mean, sexually? Not, like, does she have sex with your beard, but does she find it attractive?

I asked Kiefer this question because I was always too scared to have a beard in fear that girls would find me hideous and not want to have sex with me. But Kiefer has something like 18 or 19 children running around a farm somewhere, so he’s definitely had a lot of sexual intercourse.

He answered my question this way:

She seems to but then again she also complains about it the rest of the time.

So, really, not much help. From what I gather, though, women seem to like beards from afar, because they make the man appear wise and masculine, but when it comes down to the tactile sensation of a beard rubbing against skin, it’s disgusting.

But women are good at putting up with disgusting shit. After all, my wife dealt with this for quite some time without divorcing me:

This is more of a mustache, but it’s still ugly as fuck.

Most of the time, I just half-ass a beard because I’m too lazy to shave. And then I look like Brian Austin Green, the hip-hoppin whiteboy who played David Silver on Beverly Hills 90210:

“Me and my beard are gong to the Peach Pit, brah.”

There are also gay beards:

A very wise power-bottom

And white guy who takes really good care of his Acura beards:

“If putting my dick in an exhaust pipe is wrong, then I don’t ever want to be white. I mean, right.”

Fancy beards:


A little known fact: This kind of beard has the vagina repellant power of muffin top, World of Warcraft, syphilis and acne vulgaris all combined into one.

And animal beards:

“Ay, c’mon, Wikipedia, not just human beings have beards, ese,” said the stereotypical Mexican goat.

And dead terrorist beards:

This beard tells us: “I will tear down your imperialist shithole of a country by flying fucking airplanes into your buildings, but I still have HELLA porn on my computer.”

And the modern black man beard:

“This beard is urban, but not urban. You feel me?”

I don’t know. I think I’m just going to stick with my peach fuzz mustache and call it a day:


Might as well skip the beard to highlight my shinyass chin.

Josh Fernandez © 2021
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