Growing a beard

Last week, while I was ill, I couldn’t be bothered to shave.  I grew a beard.

It looked magnificent.  I looked magnificent!

I was like Aragorn.  If I hadn’t felt a bit poorly surely I would have saved the Midlands from the evil hoardes of Ork-Bankers.

I was like Olaf Melberg, I was like Obi Wan Kenobi, I was like Che Guevara, I was like a Spartan warrior, I was like Sebastien Chabal.  Just look what you can achieve with a beard:

I could have done anything – maybe even saved the world from everything.  But I shaved it off while I was sat in the bath.

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