Inspiration for a Fabulous Festivus

In keeping up with the Duprey Whinery Countdown to Christmas, I thought I would share a public service announcement on how “NOT” to celebrate the holiday.

Apparently, “glitter beards” are a thing. An ugly, messy, bizarre thing. (Click here if you dare.)

The Grizzly Adams beard trend is bad enough, and needless to say, lands one on my “List of Men I Will Not Date.” If I dated a man who grew one of these scraggly beards, under the guise of “Movember” or having lost a bet or a strong desire to look like a terrorist passport photo, I would rebel by not shaving my legs. And trust me, my Chewbacca legs would put that beard to shame. Plus I use conditioner, so no split ends and you could braid it.

I do not understand the desire to have tiny shards of metal/glass stuck to one’s face and topping one’s mashed potatoes. It seems like a waste of money to drop tiny glitter bombs with every step like dandruff from Elton John circa 1978. The only way this shedding could remotely be constructive is if one worked as a kindergarten teacher, but I’m pretty sure a turquoise glitter beard would have the parents banding together with torches to keep you away from their kids. This not only highlights a lack of social awareness for how ridiculous this trend is, but more importantly, you would be the worst influence ever, because next thing you know those kids would be gluing glitter all over their bodies. And that would be worse than grinding Play-doh droppings into the carpet.

Actually I just thought of another use for glitter beards. It could save your life if you get lost hiking in the woods. Leaving a trail of junk food might not work because a damn chipmunk would follow you eating your Cheetos. (Clearly I’m talking about an American chipmunk.) But no woodland creature would bother a trail of glitter. Unless it is a really fabulous woodland creature.

In my book, sporting a glitter beard is just asking to be celibate. No woman wants to kiss a man with a glitter beard. Forget about sex. That crap will get stuck in your sheets for decades, then try explaining to your future fiancé: (A) That you had sex with a man wearing glitter, who was not in ABBA; and (B) That it just doesn’t wash away, leading him to believe that your threesome with the guys from ABBA is a recurring event. And oral sex? Don’t even think about it. I am not explaining to my gynecologist why I have enough glitter in there to look like a diamond mine.

I normally believe there is no such thing as overdoing the holiday cheer. Yet glitter beards would even offend Martha Stewart. I think if you have one of those hideous Taliban-meets-ZZ Top beards, it would be less creepy to hide an Elf in the Shelf in there than cover yourself in green glitter. Or even less disturbing, just shave off the nappy beard and grow a glittered man bun. Not that I’d have sex with a glittered man bun, unless it’s Sexiest Man Alive David Beckham in a glittered man bun. Who isn’t allowed to speak . (Seriously, have you heard David Beckham’s voice? You don’t want to. It ruins the illusion.) (God’s special gift to women.)

Glitter beards in a way just seem more appropriate for a Festivus celebration. Then you would move right to the top of the list for the Airing of Grievances. But I’d better not get glitter on me in the Feats of Strength.

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