So if we're naming beards now, alongside such beauties as "The Sick Flow" or "The Ironsides" or "The Freshwater", I'd like to call mine "The Honest Effort", if it's OK with you guys.
Or, alternatively, "The Playoff Beard I Wish I Could Keep, Except I Have To Look Presentable For Groomsman Duties Tomorrow, And This Is Pretty Much Why People Shouldn't Get Married In October-- But Seriously Steph And Jared, Long Life, Best Wishes, All The Happiness In The World."
As a form of protest, I will be spending much of the reception running in between dancing couples, punting beers like Jonny Gomes. I'd like to say that's a joke, but now, just by talking about it, that seed is officially planted in my subconscious, and alcohol's a hell of a drug. All bets are off.
(Editor's update: LOTS OF COMPLIMENTS ON THE BEARD! THE BEARD PLAYS! OCTOBER WEDDINGS FOR EVERYONE!!!)
