Monday, October 11, 2010

Call Me Oscar

In preparation for Oktoberfest, I allowed my man-beard to grow out to fully embrace my blond, Germanic roots, but also embrace the inherent manliness of a festival that involves copious amounts of beer, sausage, fried food, and women in dirndl.

But that is a story for another time (when I'm not so sleepy/leaving in another 3 hours or so for Greece).

This is the story of the aftermath of that beard.


I, like so many young men before me, have always been curious about my Narcissian mug (apt reference?) and its ability to rock various kinds of facial hair. Therefore, I had vowed that, once I had the proper amount of manscruff, I would take my time in getting rid of it and properly explore my future options.

Being the avid blogger that I am, I documented the process.

You're welcome.

Opener (from Oktoberfest):

Trimmed full beard:

Nothing too major here, just classing it up a bit. I look a bit wiser, or as wise as I can possibly look with a dumb looking beard thing.

Next I moved on to the goatee:

I felt a little weird rocking the goatee, it seemed somewhat forced. I was quick with the trimmer/razor to get it off of my face. But don't get a desire to end the goatee with a desire to move on to the final stage of my transformation. Because what you are about to see will not only effect your opinions on my, on facial hair, and on the 1970's, but also your opinion on anyone with who even vaguely resemble the monstrosity on my face.

I'll space it out so that you can leave now if you choose.


Yes. That is not one, but two molester-staches.

I'm sorry for those of you who stuck around.

And I feel sorrier for those who feel like they have the stomach to continue wading through the proceeding pictures.

Because I, in my infinite wisdom, decided that the mustache alone was not enough.

My shame is now palpable. I can literally taste the humiliation in my mouth, and I'm pretty sure it has nothing to do with the "flavor saver" adorning my lip in the picture.

But there's more.


I don't know why I did this. Maybe all the Euro-trash surrounding me finally got to my head. Maybe I had a supreme desire to look like a strange combination of Starsky and Hutch-style buddy cop and old-school star in a skin flick. Maybe the 'stache and 'burns had sent tendrils into my brain like some sort of terrible parasite and decided to make myself look like the biggest idiot imaginable.

All I know is that I no longer have nothing to hide. There is nothing lower to me than that. Except maybe for what the implications of rocking such a combo probably lead one to believe that I have improper relations with, well, pretty much everyone and everything. So please don't judge me for my moment of foolishness: instead, judge me for my willingness (even desire) to put all of this on my blog where ANYONE can see my disgust.

Depending on the internet situation in Greece, this might be my last post for the next couple of days. If not, up next: OKTOBERFEST


Eleni said...

Wow. The mustache. I'm not so sure about the goatee, the angles look a little weird to me.

Looking forward to hearing about Oktoberfest.

Rachel said...

Well, that moustache is simply marvellous.

Have you heard of 'no shave November'? Some of my friends tried it last year (saying they tried it makes it sound like a product; a beard making product). Anyway, the salient point is they ended up with very magical (yet also horrendous) beards.

The Shanner of Attention said...

Ha - love it. How long did you rock the mustache? Please say for at least a day. The Euro world needs to see that.

The Shanner of Attention said...

Oh, and were you eating a sausage/hot dog with a hamburger bun? B/C I was just at Oktoberfest (in NY) this past weekend and had to do the exact same thing. Odd.

Pat Tillett said...

whenever I hear the word Oktoberfest, all I can think of is urine...
beer and urine!

the goatee looked pretty good...

Charley Quinn said...

i let out an audible "oh my gosh" upon seeing the completed molester-stache w/ expose chest hair and glasses.

damn fine work man.

soft nonsense said...


Shanner - I rocked it just long enough to take that picture, though my beard has come back in again, so it may have a triumphant return to the streets of Roma...

Pat - That' Unfortunate? Glad my (only?) mustachioed reader appreciated my attempt.

CQ - Your approval is all I've ever craved. You've known that from the beginning.

Elizabeth Benfield said...

i love that men do this. i posted once when my husband did the same thing, check it out:

Yet said...

I liked the facial hair. Now I miss it... sigh.

soft nonsense said...

Elizabeth - Your husband's hair is something I could only accomplish with years of growth and a Zen-like mastery of a blade.

Yet - Don't worry, it's pretty much back...and this is No-Shave November, so we'll see how that goes...

Pat Tillett said...

I hope I didn't leave the impression that I think beer tastes like urine (not that I know what urine tastes like). Well there was that one unfortunate accident involving a urnine sample, but we don't need to talk about that here. I love beer, but the Oktoberfests, that I've been to involved men's room almost flooded out by huge amounts of stray spray...

soft nonsense said...

Future PT blog post?

Better yet: future GUEST blog post?

Eh? Eh?


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