This article originally written in 2015

You may or may not know that men often get sponsored to grow a ‘tache in November for the charity The Movember Foundation in order to highlight men’s health issues (including testicular cancer). For the last few years, I’ve been meaning to do so, but I always get discouraged by the missus’ constant nagging. But after November 2013 had finished, I told the little lady, ‘look, I want to do this; next year I will be growing it for November’.

Basically, this was just an excuse to not shave for a month. I’m not going to be doing anything for charity! I won’t even be growing a ‘tache but the whole lot.

I’m really curious to do it because I’ve never tried before; can I even grow a proper beard?

Well, it was half way through November 2014 before I realised, oh, I forgot to not shave! But in December, I had a few days without shaving and the missus got all excited and encouraged me to grow it. So I did. For around two weeks. But I realised that Christmas was coming up and I needed to shave for my Nan ‘cos she needs her men smooth. So I did. Much to the sadness of all my work colleagues, friends, and wife.

But fear not.

As of the 1st of January 2015, I am going to go for it. I will go a full forty days without shaving. I will post updates of how I’m doing, hopefully with updates on Jan 5, 12, 19, 26, Feb 2, and the finale on Feb 9 with a before and after and forty daily pics all side-by-side.

Am I a real man, that is, hairy, like my Dad? Or am I a fake man, i.e., patchy of beard, like my Dad’s brother? We shall see!

2020 Update:

I have been bebearded these last five years, and not a day goes by when I don’t just ooze testosterone and manliness. The best lazy decision of my life.

© 2014 – 2015, 2020 Bryan A. J. Parry

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Two Thirds of a Pint

imageWent to The Draft House pub in Hammersmith (W6 7NL) yesterday with a mate. No sooner had we found a good space in the beer garden, than a floppy-haired tattoo-sleeve-wearing barman flounced over with a vintage clipboard and antique paper menu with brews bearing such names as “Aprigot [not a spelling mistake] Sour Apricot”. Before we could get over the strange unpubiness of all this, we were asked if we would like pints, halves, two-thirds of a pint, or one third of a pint.

What on earth?

Being married to a Spaniard, I’m used to the concept of tiny, shot-like glasses of beer: the caña, the zurito. But I’d never seen it in England. However, I think the concept will catch on; there’s a real niche for smaller-than-pint sizes of beer.

But will the name “two thirds of a pint” catch on? Unlikely.

I unilaterally dubbed this measure, the “two’th” or “tooth” — as in “two th[irds of a pint]”. A much catchier alternative. So we spent all night ordering “tooths”, and we spent all night not being understood. We feigned confusion: ‘You know: tooths. It’s what we call two-thirds-of-a-pint round my manor, guv’.

One third is known as a “one-fer” (‘one thir[d]’ in a London accent) or a “toothless”.

Go to a pub and order some “tooths” today! Free fun!

© 2015 Bryan A. J. Parry