The Christmas Beard

This may come as abhorrent news to some, but, since Christmas break is soon and none of my friends (one in particular) have to see me over such a long break, I've decided to grow a Christmas beard.  If you didn't know, I have grown a beard before, if you don't believe me go check my Facebook.  I've got pictures there.  It's not a dapper beard, but it can be done, and it's fun to do.  I've decided to make a little Christmas tradition.  And yes, you can have traditions with yourself (like watching Rocky every Thanksgiving all by yourself).  But, I guess I'm not all alone doing this.  I've recruited my dad and Henry Davis to do it with me.  This is an avocation to all those who would like to join me in this august occasion.  God speed.

Speaking of beards, I thought I might make a list of some of the most resolute beards of all times.  They're not in any particular order except the last, which is there for good cause.  I mean, I've been sent this one link to all these batty people growing over-the-top beards, but I'm talk the dopest for realz beards.  Anyway, first on the list.

The Logan:

The Logan was made famous by Hugh Jackman in his role as Wolverine in the X-men movies.  It's cool and all, but I think it's more the hot guy under the chops rather than the chops themselves.  In most cases, the man makes the beard, and for that reason I mustn't be too enthusiastic about my own upcoming beard.

The Old Spice Man Scruff:

Once again, the sexy man that makes the beard.  Yet this beard remains a topic of discussion.  This is the beard that you go for if all you want to prove is that you are capable to grow a beard period.  It's not gross or over-the-top, but it gets its point across being, "The man wearing me, is in fact a man."  It's hot, but once again, I have blonde facial hair making this beard an unachievable beard for me.  But are you up to snuff to grow the Old Spice Man Scruff?  Other like Condalisa Rice have pulled it off though.  I guess being black has something to do with it.

The Neck Bread:

This one is a little out of style, but it still carries some of it's grandeur...No, no, it doesn't. Umm...honestly, this is the most abominable beard of all times.  There is never a reason adequate to ever (ever) grow one of these.  Please, I beg you to stay far away from these beards and the people who happen to where them.  Not to say anything about Henry Thoreau (um...can someone tell me what the bones is on his head/hair?) *shifty looks*.  No not at all, but try and tell me you can trust the next man.

You see, that man is pure evil.  He sits among those on the left hand of God.  Anyway, I could go on about this, but I won't.

The Dragon Stache:

I don't think anyone ought to grow this unless they're Asian.  So that kinda rules me out.  But as you can see Confucius can rock it.  Hmm....maybe John Wilson could pull it off.

The Merlin:

This is the most magical of beards.  All the most powerful wizards port one of these on their grizzled faces.  Just think, Merlin, Gandalf, Dumbldore....all the big names.  But sadly, I don't have the time to grow one of those most magical imperials.  But I have invented a new use for the word "merlin."  You use it like the word cool.  I might be fun.

merlin (adj); [mur-lin]:  characterized by great facility;  highly skilled or clever;  cool;  magical

Just try it, we'll see if it catches on.

The J.C./C. Norris:

 The Jesus (with dinosaur) version:

The Chuck Norris version:

And the George Bush version:

I don't think I'm quite man enough to grow one of those yet.  Maybe after if I watch the "I'll make a man out of you!" scene from Mulan enough, and I go on a mission, maybe I'll try.

And finally...

The Franz Joseph Chops:

Franz Joseph was the king of Austria-Hungry before WW1.  But that isn't truly what made him great (if starting WW1 can be considered great).  Just look at that beard...can't really see it?  Well, here.

There we go.  Now tell me.  What kind of base and evil desire causes a man to put such a nightmare on his face.  It's...it's...just...why?  Why do that to yourself and the people around you?  It's a selfish action to do such a thing because it causes so much grief and calamity to those around you who have to look at such an atrocity.  Anyway, there y'all have the monster of monsters...in the beard kingdom.

I feel so bad leaving you all at such a bad note.  Go listen to your favorite song, that should cheer you up.  And I still don't know what to do with my Christmas beard.  Well, we'll just have to see what my facial hair evolves into.  Ha.  I'm sure that I'll get comments remarking, "Don't." or like "You are so dumb Josh."  But oh well.  It's fun.  Have a good day!

Love,

Josh

The Artificial Gardener

Here's an assignment that I wrote for English class.  I like it.  Enjoy!
Love,
Jozi

The Artificial Gardener

One of the odd activities I continually find myself partaking in is peeling the leaves off of artificial plants.  I take simple joy in the action.  Yet, I hardly believe that the word “fulfilling” is the correct term to describe the emotion caused by pruning a plastic plant, but rather the word “satisfying.”  Since, “fulfillment” comes from the feeling of having accomplished something, while, “satisfying” never has had such a connotation.  Therefore you are allowed to peel the leaves off of artificial plants for your own “satisfaction.”  “Satisfaction” being the word since no good is ever done to the plant.  The plant is usually left naked and marred, a victim to my sinister plots to inhibit its ability to perform polyester photosynthesis.

Thus, many artificial plants become the injured party to my “satisfaction.”  I feel it my duty to alleviate fake plants of their industrious mass-produced leaf-like burdens.  I have become quite beaver in my efforts to deforest my many polyurethane friends.  It’s a kind of schadenfreude that keeps me paring down such plants.  But when all is said and done, I look at my many victims, and have compassion on them.  They, unlike their less fictional cousins, are unable to grow back their tender foliage.  They are left tarnished, a martyr to my self-indulgence, and a monument of the many irreversible misdeeds of my life.    I am the gambler, playing an unwinnable game.  I am the addict, picking his poison.  I am the doctor, left to face his monster. I am the artificial gardener, whose harvest is nothing but regret and short-lived pleasure.

So I start a blog....

I've always had the intention to start a blog.  But, I hardly feel like I can make a valid contribution to the Internet.  What do I have to offer to a seemingly endless void of information?  Hm....Plus I've most recently heard a song by one of my favorite rappers, MC Frontalot, "I Hate Your Blog."  By the way, It's a good song, and should make you laugh.  Yet, I am here, making blog.  Not only making it, but posting on it.  I also feel like a blog would turn into some homework.  So, I'm making no promise that I'll post often. I'll post when I feel like I should.  Generally when I have some astounding idea I'll post (e.g. Like get this, two wizards in a covered wagon with Jane Austin and the Bronte sisters.  Genius right?  Yet, there are those nameless few among us who have chosen to hate on the two wizards in the covered wagon.).  Or if I have some assignment I'm proud of.  There, my disclosure, and I know there are some of you who will be stingy about my grammar and punctuation.  I assure you that I never had the intention to cause you grief.  Just know that I tend to sometimes leave words out of phrases .  Anyway, I hope you enjoy.
Love,
Jozi