Sunday, July 31, 2005

Shaving poetry

Over at the Trinidad & Tobago Express, Tony Deyal is waxing lyrical about shaving.
Ever had one of those mornings when things don't gel and you work yourself into a lather? Life seems like a precarious dance on a razor's Edge and happiness a Blade Runner in a virtual reality nightmare. As you scrape yourself off the primeval ooze of existence even the slightest movement sounds like sound-barrier breaking booms, Mach 3 at least. It feels like someone stumbling through the stubble, the dark shadowy undergrowth. When that happens to me, even my dear wife's attempts at soft-soaping me fail and I get schick to my stomach. Have I lost my cutting edge? Is this a job for Remington steel?
It's an interesting article, especially if you're in the mood for connecting shaving-related terms together in whichever ways might strike one's fancy. And jokes. He's got at least three shaving-related jokes in the article, which is three more than I've encountered anywhere else.

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