It lived its life to the fullest during its brief existence, but over the weekend I laid the remains of my goatee to rest at the bottom of our kitchen garbage can. It served admirably on the chin-stroking front, but it has always grown in redder than the rest of my hair; since I'm now all about the salt-and-pepper on top, people kept asking if I colored it.
[Right. I colored it. I used that terrific new men's product, Just For Jagoffs.]
The primary reason, however, was much more serious. When your mouth is surrounded with scratchy little hairlings, it's impossible to give your 8-month-old a top-quality zerbit.
