The Blog of Daniel

Just my place to write without any delusions of self-importance.


The other night I shaved off my mustache.  At first I was only going to trim it a bit, but then I said what the hell and shaved it all off.  I kept it there to cover a mole that I hated but with the help of a friend I realized that everyone has blemishes somewhere and it just makes us human.

Sometimes when I would I ask random people if they could guess how old I was, they would always guess that I was 8 to 10 years older than I really am (and they were being kind.) Yes, this always made me feel pretty miserable.  Today I asked some new people at work to do the same and they guessed that I was 10 to 12 years younger than I really am.

I have never once kissed a woman without my mustache being there.

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