My latest column for This Is Horror:
“I was a bit of a late starter when it came to facial hair. In fact I was over 30 before I had to start shaving more than once in a blue moon. I was actually quite upset by the sudden onset of face fuzz if I’m honest. It seemed like a definitive end to my years of folly and fresh faced youth. If the twin responsibilities of a new baby and a mortgage weren’t enough, I suddenly had to start scraping hair from my chin on a daily basis. It all seemed decidedly unfair at the time.
Like most men, I’ve always wondered what I would look like with a full beard, but I have to confess that I’ve never managed more than five days of full growth before slicing it all off. This is partly because I can’t stand the infernal itching but mainly because my wife would don an electrified chastity belt and start wielding a cattle prod if I ever approached her with a face full of hair.
I have to admit that I understand her feeling in this matter. Back in my younger days of sexual experimentation, when I happily took partners from both sexes, I was never keen on beards myself. I recall one snog with a particularly bearded bloke that felt like a hemorrhoidal Wookie was using my face as a relief cushion. So I must confess, from the get go, that I’m no expert on the subject of beards, and I’m an even stranger candidate to write a defence of them. Even still, I’m going to try …”