Movember, Day 7. Oddly enough, the itching has not been too bad. Maybe the moisturising regime has paid off after all. However, having to go out in public looking like something from the 80s is a different matter. I find myself constantly saying things like 'I don't normally look like this' or 'It's for charity you know'. December 1 or, to be more precise, the evening of November 30, is going to be blessed relief.
D has finally noticed too. After spending a few moments rubbing her finger over my top lip she commented that I was very scratchy, and declared that she did not like it. I told her that it wouldn't be for too long. Her reaction this evening, when she realises that I am still scratchy, could be interesting.
On the style front, I have removed the lower portion of the mo and, as consequence, look less like Merv Hughes now. At the moment I am heading down the dangerous path of a Tom Selleck, This is not a place that I want to be. To make matters worse my advancing years mean that the Mo is not, shall we say, as dark as it would have been a few years back. Salt and Pepper is, I think, the phrase. Badger may be a better description.
The good news is that my West Brom hoodoo was broken on Monday night. Two goals from Peter Odemwingie secured a fine victory and 5th place in the Greed League. On the down side, maybe it was the power of the Mo that guided my team. Should I retain the Mo in search of a European spot? No is the answer. I will just have to support from afar. Maybe, if being Mo-less is detrimental to the team I watch, I should go to Vile Park more often? Just a thought.
Over and out Mo watchers. Until next time, stay safe and stay unshaven.
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