Dear Lee,
I know we're no good for each other. Your fiancé hates me, understandably. Is her rash gone yet?
But damn her. No matter how hard I try, I can't stay away. Your cheeks, your chin, that dimple in your upper lip. By 5:00 I'm powerless, climbing all over your face.
We look good together, Lee. We're meant to be. Can't we make this work?
Sincerely,
Your beard
Poor beard!
ReplyDeleteDammit, Tim! You can't fight fate. Or nature. Or facial hair.
ReplyDeleteThis may or may not be an extension of my angst over growing back my beard.
ReplyDeleteI lost my beard to the wife, it's growing back nicely but will have to be shaved again before Easter.
ReplyDeleteThat's so funny - my story over at the NOT is about a beard...
ReplyDeleteI love my beard!
ReplyDelete