Day nine started with John making a sudden and startling realization. This contest may never end. Apparently he was under the (false) impression that this ordeal was over once I went back to day shifts two weeks from now. Wrong. We have many things written on the message board by our door (most of them have to do with hating Don Lucia), but only one of the memos will govern this contest. It's a cocktail napkin on which John scrawled "whatever it takes" after I was given the Heisman by a chick in a German milkmaid outfit.
Day eight saw the entrance of a new contestant and a bold maneuver made on my part. Our friend in DC decided to step out of Web Log retirement and step into a world of shit. Not only does he not have a chance in the beard-off, but I can imagine Chuck Norris will be pretty pissed off when he finds out someone is trying to steal his identity. My bold maneuver actually happened on Sunday night, but didn't debut until Monday. In an attempt to stave off the dreaded itching and add definition to the growth, I've shaved off the neck beard. John considers it a mistake, but I don't agree. Now my facial hair actually has the look and outline of a beard instead of just...sloth. To provide a little comparison: this morning my boss said I looked like Abe Lincoln (America's greatest president) and I told John he looked like a homeless alcoholic (America's greatest seeker of spare change).
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