"History will remember me," my #beard remarked, admiring itself in the mirror.

"History doesn't remember beards," I said.

"History remembers SOME beards."

"Not the ones full of toast crumbs."

Silence. Then, very quietly:

"Gandalf’s beard held wisdom."

"And you hold peanut butter."

#Me&MyBeard

"Rasputin survived being poisoned, shot, and drowned," I pointed out.

"Pfft," my #beard scoffed. "His BEARD survived all that—and an assassination attempt by Prince Felix Yusupov, who tried to shave it off in a candlelit drawing room."

"That... that never happened."

2/3 #Me&MyBeard

"Oh, it did. He lunged with a silver razor, whispering, 'For Russia!' but Rasputin's beard coiled around his wrist and gently redirected him into a chaise lounge."

"No."

"They wrote a song about it!" my beard argued. "The aristocracy suppressed it—too beard-forward for the times."

3/3 #Me&MyBeard

I always say that if someone tells me something is in my beard, or if we’re close, they get something out of mybeard, that’s love.

“Rasputin had a very notorious beard,” my #beard mused over coffee.

"Notorious how?" I asked. "Because of its mystical powers?"

"Yes! They tried to shave it. Four times. It just kept growing back faster. By the time they reached his chin, it was already a full beard again."

1/3 #Me&MyBeard