Last week I ran out of shaving foam but being a resourceful sort of chap I merely laughed off this minor inconvenience and instead used some shampoo to foamy up my chops.
This was a mistake.
You see shampoo is intended for hair, which it coats it with a layer of stuff that makes it look all shiny in a waterfally. Sadly this stuff also coated my neck which I had neglected to rinse properly. This caused all the skin to dry up and my neck to resemble that of a ninety year old grandmother.
Now this would have been laughed off as ‘one of those things’ had I realised at the time that this was the cause of my metamorphosis. But instead I spent three days convinced that I had Psoriasis. All I could think of was Michael Gambon in The Singing Detective: stripped naked to be viewed by a gaggle of singing and dancing medical students. Apparently this is normal behaviour for medical professionals in the new modern NHS trust shitstem.
It only dawned on me that the pretend poo was to blame when I noticed my earlobes, which were similarly afflicted. You see, I continually forget to rinse those after a shave and people are always commenting on my foamy ears, often with a reference to a film called There’s Something About Mary which I really should get around to watching one day. I’m sure the ears in that film belong to some hulking muscleman as he attempts to save the world from a secret organisation called MARY which stands for Murderous Army of Roger Yardley.
Come to think of it why didn’t they just call the film The Murderous Army of Roger Yardley? It would have been far less cryptic and I may have gone to see it. A murderous army is far more compelling than some vague suspicions about a secret organisation that nobody knows anything about. If I wanted to watch that sort of crap I’d watch Lost.
Happily I’ve not seen Lost either. However a newspaper review of it convinced me that it would be another exercise in naval gazing from the country that brought us Twin Peeks. A program that Ihave seen all the way through and which I have regretted ever since. In fact I regularly post photographs of some fists to David Lynch for his temerity.
Well I can’t dance around here all day, I got a yummy chilli to make.