Some people at TheGloss offices love beards (Ashley). Some people don’t (Lilit). Some people think that they’re for Santa Claus and Castro (me). But we all agree that if any male friend of ours travels to Kentucky to do some sort of lawnmower selling, we’re going to make him shave first. Because otherwise, he’s going to be forced to eat his own beard at knife point. Apparently that stuff happens all the time. According to Gawker:
“Troy offered to buy it [the lawnmower] from me for two hundred and fifty dollars. I paid twenty bucks for it. He thought I was trying to cheat him,” Westmoreland said. “One thing led to another, and before I knew it, there were knives and guns and everything just went haywire.”
Ha, right, of course, I was trying to sell my lawnmower, “one thing led to another,” and all of a sudden a knife was being held to my brother’s throat. Joseph escaped with a “mark.” But Harvey wasn’t so lucky:
“They cut my beard and forced me to eat it,” he said.
And that is why beards are a bad idea. Now, for bonus points, was “lawnmower” a euphemism? What for?