Blades Of Steel!

If you're reading this, chances are you already know me. If you don't, however, it should soon become apparent through my writings that I'm a deeply complicated individual with multiplexed interests and a raging conflagration of clashing opinions about the shifting state of my own sanity. In all seriousness, however, I'm just a guy writing about my thoughts on love, life, and the universe.


It's a defining moment in a young man's life when he shaves for the very first time. It is a sign of impending maturity, of changes both large and small that are equally beyond control and/or extremely embarrassing. Nonetheless, it is a joyous and memorable occasion not soon forgotten. I still remember looking in the mirror with immeasurable anticipation on that great day, hoping that the few meager, nearly invisible bits of peach fuzz on my upper lip would grow back, and do so in force. If they did, it would mean the ultimate confirmation of my journey from childhood to manliness.

In most cases, a guy's first shave is usually a nightmare. Handling the strange, T-shaped device is neither easy nor intuitive. The sensation of placing a cold, razor-sharp… uh, razor, against pale, pock-marked pubescent flesh is nothing short of terrifying. Also, it seems that a select few geniuses inevitably choose to completely forgo the use of shaving cream, erroneously assuming exemption from massive chafing and discomfort. Boy, was I ever wrong.

Making matters worse, though, is that guys don't instinctually know the proper angle at which to hold the razor, much less the ideal stroke direction. We usually shave backwards, upside-down, sideways, diagonally, and, if particularly bored, sometimes in circles. While these methods have been known to occasionally produce semi-passable results by government standards, considerable personal injury and/or minor blood loss is never far behind.

Lastly, a guy will almost undoubtedly re-enact what has come to be known as one of the most classic moments in all of cinematic history. Imagine if you will the battle-ravaged, crater-infested surface of an average male teen's mug: resplendent with gouges, blotches, and missing chunks of skin. Bare, raw, exposed. Tender, unprotected. Vulnerable. Ugly. And yet, in our ignorance, we gingerly produce a potent slap of alcoholic aftershave to our faces. In the words of Kevin McCallister from Home Alone, "Ahhhhhhhhhh!"

So yes, a young man's first shave is an adventure wrought with danger, intrigue, and stupidity. But it's also a learning experience, and something that only happens once. Well, that's not entirely true, as I still manage to slice myself up pretty good at times. Of course, that just goes to show how much of a manly man I really am.

Now then, what'd I do with those Pokémon and Mario band-aids?