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September 18, 2002
Poking, poking, poking. It is
Poking, poking, poking. It is one of those things that makes me absolutely crazy, and it is entirely my fault. I am responsible for my goatee. If I don't trim my upper goatee back occasionally, the hairs begin to poke at my upper lip. This makes every SINGLE movement of my lips irritating, from the slightest smile to every word uttered.
The most embarassing part is that I just bought a new beard trimmer last month, as the old one was so worn that it was simply depilating my face. The battery just died as I realized that the little hairs were poking, poking, poking. Now I can't find the charger for the dratted beast, the hairs are poking, poking, poking, and I can't believe I've done this again. I will find the charger some place totally random - the freezer, inside a shoe, or maybe in the little shrine I have to Krispy Kreme donuts. Logic has no place in my filing system of life, although my whiskers tell me I should work on that system.
Posted by G at September 18, 2002 10:48 PM