I took the plunge and decided to get rid of my beard. After eight months of being among the unshaven masses, I had grown rather attached to my beard. I had even named him Hank. We had some great times together; he sometimes caught wayward food, kept me warm in the winter, and even hid horrible skin blemishes for me. But all good things must come to an end, and I decided that it was time for my girlfriend to actually see what my face looks like.

But Hank would not go without a fight. It took damn near an hour to get rid of him. What started as a heartfelt goodbye to my beard became an annoying, dragged out mess of facial hair that had overstayed its welcome. It hurt, it tore at my face, and the more i shaved off, the more glad I was to be rid of it.

But either way, I'm now back on the fast track towards sophistication. Watch out!