(no subject)
Sometime, just sometimes, we are all tempted to do things that we really shouldn’t do. Sometimes these are one off, never again things. Other times they are mistakes that we are destined to repeat.
To some people the mistake is eat the entire bar of chocolate, for others it may be to go for the McKrusty burger. You know it’s a bad idea, you’ll regret it, but the craving is there deep inside, and MUST be satisfied.
In my case the repeated mistake is to shave. Every now and again I look in the mirror and it occurs to me that I’ve forgotten what I look like. Somewhere under the hirsutidness is a chin, cheeks, possibly even dimples. They clamour to be revealed, “show your true face to the world” they cry. They whisper in my ear at night, desperate to be free.
And so I am here again. I know that I will give in eventually and draw the shiny razor down my cheek. I know I will look at the fresh pink skin revealed, and I know I will exclaim “ah yes, that’s why I grew the beard!”.
But for now, today, the idea is as appealing as the airbrushed photo of a succulent McKrusty burger; the meat is tender, the bun wholesome, the lettuce bright and perky.
And the reason for the post? The name, my dear friends, such feelings must have a name. I therefore would like suggestions in a Meaning of Liff type manner; a placename that best describes the desperate need to do something that you know is going to be a very, very bad idea...
Over to you.
...and hope I still have a beard when I see you next!