Facial hair and life at large: a memoir

I shaved my beard yesterday. It was a good beard for my first earnest attempt at growing one. I had tried several times before, but abandoned the idea before any sort of respectable growth had occured; I looked like one of those magnet-faced toys that have the iron filings awkwardly plastered to their heads.
This time around, I actually attempted to get something resembling a beard to grow from my face. It went okay for a while, just like the diet plan that my high school bus driver started herself on. Then, of course, everything derails when reality decides its time to pay a visit to Candyland. Ms. Humperdink declined into sipping a six-pack of SlimFast while laying fused to the driver's seat of the bus, and my beard became the dark and patchy reality of youthful facial hair growth. The semblance of a real beard was there, except there were odd empty spots of my face much like the old nautical maps with sea monsters drawn in unexplored areas. My beard was not becoming the flowing mane of manliness that I had intended to braid and bead and have gray with age, pride, and wisdom. Instead, it was another failed attempt at a most simple and common task of life. I cannot even grow a proper beard. I have an image of how I look in my head that reality lights on fire and beats out with a rake. I shave out of dissapointment in my own bodily functions.

There are many beardless people that have gone on to be successful. I think tons of presidents didn't have beards, except for Ulysses Grant, who is arguably the greatest president ever considering he is the only general in history to force the surrender of a United States army. There is also the theory that Ulysses Grant is actually just the immortal Jesus Christ, and there was simply a mistranslation in the bible that read "and he rose into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father" when in actuality it should have said "and he rowed with the seamen and is headed to the straight of Gibraltar" which means he was making his trip to the New World where he could wait it out a few thousand years and head the Northern forces and end slavery in the United States. Regardless, I just gave a proof as to why having a beard is awesome instead of proving how not having a beard is acceptable.

My sorrow is a thing exquisite.