It’s been a little over a week since my last beard update, and boy can I tell you that changes have been noticed. First of all, just look at me. I’ve got the rugged visage of worn jeans drying on the light leather seat of an old rusted tractor covered in a rural patina. My beard bares the crisp, grizzled appearance of wisdom that can only be found in the most remote mountains, in the most hidden of woods, within the most wise of sages. My hair, refuses to coif under my command. Instead, it prefers to mimic the wild, tameless cacophony of a wild stallion’s mane. I’m a man in every cliched form of the word.

I think I’m doing quite well with this challenge. Admittedly I’ve cleaned up the edges of my beard for the professional setting of work, but I have not lowered a single hair on my body. I can feel the Merlin-esque power flowing from my chin and neck. The persona of Gandolf the Black is gaining characteristics within me as I type. I wouldn’t be surprised if I woke up with a wooden staff in my hand tomorrow.

I imagine I’ll take up chain saw throwing, or bear wrestling this week. Bearded Jae has a craving. I have to do some wild stuff. I have the urge to rip beehives from trees and to catch salmon in my mouth, upstream. I’ve become a man’s, man. I might start drinking raw eggs for each of my meals. I might even let someone hunt me for sport, just so I can hunt them back. I need to howl at something.

Stay tuned for next week’s episode. I’ll most likely be a werewolf by then, but I’ll post regardless.

“Howling at the moon is making me hungry!” — Jae the Wolf