It seems that today I had to apologise for my failure to
shave at a weekend now; the benefits of exfoliation are lost on my stage
partner, the amazing Sarah. As if it’s not hard enough having to cope with an
increasing amount of white appearing in my beard, my two days off from shaving
are out of the window until the end of February – or at least until the end of
the show.
Sarah did offer to moisturise my beard thoroughly before I
jumped in to my moments of passion on stage, but for some reason the thought of
rubbing goose fat or similar on to my stubbly chin failed to enthral her. Beats
me.
Anyway, looking on the bright side I don’t think that I need
to grow a facial masterpiece like Ian has done to recreate Buffalo Bill. The
thrill he gets from sharpening the ends of his moustache prior to taking to the
stage is potentially all out of proportion.
I promise to try to remember to shave before rehearsals next
Sunday – but we’re off to Cadbury’s World for the day on the Saturday, so would
a chocolate moustache do?
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