I recently shaved my beard and mustache in order to accommodate my Halloween costume.
I have a white, flare-bottomed jumpsuit with a sequins eagle on the chest.
The back of my neck is shrouded by the jumpsuit's high collar and three red scarves.
My face is enveloped by two massive sideburns.
I am Elvis.
A photograph will be available as soon as my buddy, Scott, emails it to me.
Side note:
When I mentioned that I hated shaving the beard, a friend of mine who is into psychoanalysis said that beards symbolize insecurity, as if the bearded man is hiding from something.
I replied that psychoanalysis of a beard's symbolic value is mere deflection, as if the psychoanalyzer is deflecting from the fact that he is a douche bag.
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