So, me and Andy go way back, blogging-wise. August of last year, maybe. Perhaps even July.
I had only been blogging for a month or two, and Andy even less, I think. We were both on Blogger at the time. I still am, as a matter of fact. But Andy… well, he’s moved on to bigger and better software.
(Or perhaps bellsier and whistlier. I can’t really say.
No, really. ‘Bellsier‘. I’m not sure I can say it, physically, at all. My tongue just doesn’t move that way.)
Anyway, I was curious to see what the extra freedom would do for Andy, what new content he’d concoct, which new features he’d create. And I didn’t have to wait long. Hoo boy, no I didn’t.
(At least, he’d damned well better call them that, unless he can think of something better. That’s pure comedy bronze, folks!)
Apparently, young Andy‘s not the fastest hair grower on the face (heh!) of the planet. Two days in, and I’m afraid he’s got little to show for his efforts. Or lack of efforts in the form of shaving. Whatever.
Look, the point is that you should go check it out. Partly because he’s a good guy, and deserves your attention. Partly because this is one of the few things I’ve seen out there in the blogosphere that outweirds some of the shit that I’ve done. But mainly to suggest to our dear friend a better name for his little experiment.
(Personally, I’m in favor of ‘When Hairy Met Andy‘. It makes me giggle. But that’s just me. Go tell him your idea, too — maybe he’ll have a contest or something. The winner could get a lock of beard, if he manages to grow one in the next twenty-six and a half days.
Ooh, ooh, and the booby prize could be his ‘soul patch’!
Um… yeah. You know, that’s one of those sentences where there seem to be a lot of good words floating around, but in the order I put ’em, they just sound creepy. I think it’s time we left that little incident behind us.)
(Just don’t tell him I said he doesn’t have any hair yet. He’s very proud of his fledgeling stubble, from what I understand.
Enjoy it while it lasts, Andy, old boy — soon enough, you’ll be growin’ that shit way too fast in places you don’t even want to dream about. Places they don’t make trimmers or waxes for, either. Fear the hair, baby. Fear it!)Permalink | 6 Comments