The Thing Underneath My Nose

It seems that in the course of Research Methodology and juggling other stuff over the past 3 weeks, my facial features have undergone some drastic changes. Changes which my eyes could not believe when I first realised them. Changes which will have people either gasping in delight or horror, depending on their individual definition of 'masculinity'.

I've grown some man-whiskers.

Bloody purists will probably scowl and raise an eyebrow at the term 'man-whiskers', saying instead that the correct term for facial hair arranged neatly in a row underneath the upper lip would be 'moustache'. However, I insist that what I have grown without even knowing it are man-whiskers. This is because they resemble something to what Awal Ashaari has on his face, rather than those coarse, unkept and wild-looking strands of hair which Frank Zappa copyrighted after his death.

Frankly (!) speaking, it's a bit too much. People can say whatever they want about man-whiskers (it's a sign of manliness, virility and a darn good excuse to sign up for the Royal Police Force, for example) but for me, I feel as if there's an unwelcome visitor underneath my nose who has a habit of tickling the corner of my lip. Think of it as having a furry squirrel hanging from your nose and continuously moving its tail about. Not so pleasant, I can assure you.

Now I want to trim it off, but Dad won't tell me where he has hidden his Man-Whiskers-Ridding Tool, otherwise commonly known as scissors. I think they may stay with me for a while.