mastertangler wrote on Sep 11^th, 2014 at 12:24pm:


Did you miss the part where I said " Like the Methodist's say "  :question

I paraphrased it that way becasue I did my due diligence, something you should try sometime.

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I never mentioned "the Book", becasue I made sure what I was talking about before posting.

I'll let any Methodist reply too that checking out a different preacher comment.

"Cleanliness is next to Godliness"? Is that sort of like the phrase "God helps those who help themselves"? Neither are in the book.....might want to check out a different preacher.

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Yup, and I'm well groomed, facial hair or not.

Like the Methodist's say "Cleanliness is next to godliness."

No worries Pucky ol' boy, if a goatee is something you desire they are easy enough to get.

When I was in the Witness Protection Program such things were standard issue. Peel-N-Stick goatees, side burns, beards and even bushy eyebrows were employed quite effectively. Once, for a period of a few years, I even hid in plain sight as a television actor on a weekly sitcom. I was astonished at how far in life you can get with an afro and a singular phrase ( Dyn-O-Myte!) but I digress.

Take ST for example. Remove the goatee and it is quite likely that you have seen him before (milk carton, Post Office etc.)

mastertangler wrote on Sep 10^th, 2014 at 2:33am:


Personal hygiene whether at home or in the woods, is what separates us from the beast of the field/woods. It also keeps you from getting sick from poor hygiene/food handling practices.

"Man Crush"  Sounds like someone is projecting their private thoughts on that. 

Facial hair grooming? Sounds more like a man crush to me, starting to get a little creeped out here. Lets get back to more manly things, like pooping in the woods.

Hmm, another thread is currently focusing on the finer art of crapping, and here we're discussing facial hair grooming.   

Maybe we need a QJ discussion forum called "Personal Hygiene in Canoe Country"  Topics might include, "appropriate farting techniques" "is body odor okay?" and  ______    

Puckster

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Probably too late now, but when I first started growing a beard it was right after I got out of the Army. I was 21.

I could grow a beard, but even after weeks, it was a scraggly mess. I had a barber who had a regal beard that I much admired. He asked/told me if I had ever heard women say that once they started shaving their legs, the hairier they got?

He said that was true and told me that instead of not shaving, I should let my beard grow a week or so, then shave close and start over.

Sure enough it got fuller everytime. Soon I had a good beard and never looked back.

[/quote] Is the problem you can't grow facial hair, or it won't come in right?
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The problem is I need to shave maybe once every two to three weeks!  And if I didn't bother to shave, I'd make Ethan Hawke look downright hairy. 

If hair is my biggest problem, I'll take it.  But I'm still impressed when I see such facial growth as yours!

puckster

Hanging out in Orlando airport waiting connections and having a Sam Adams. Time for a "lost keys" story before I start reading another book.

Working at Mt Rainier and me and another guy leave the park in my Toyota and drive a gravel road to a steep little trail and hike up to the last of 3 small lakes, about 2 miles tops. We catch our bunch of little cutthroat trout and hike back to the truck in the evening only to discover the keys are gone. I figure they must be where we went through the little tackle box on that flat rock lakeside and Reece goes sprinting back to retrieve them.

I wait for what seems like a long time and then start to become concerned that he's not back. Then I remembered one switchback where the trail splits and you can keep going straight instead of doubling back and I get worried he went the wrong way. I take off at a run and reach the junction and shout his name, only silence. Now I am worried that he had a fall and is hurt. I continue to the upper lake and there is no sign of Reece and now my worst fears are confirmed. I look around where I think the keys should be but no keys. I sprint back and am freakin out because it is almost totally dark and I can hardly see the trail. With no spare and convinced my friend is hurt I start the long walk out. I trudged all night and got to someone's house that i knew just as dawn was approaching and collapsed on their front porch which had a huge couch complete with pillows. A few hours goes by and the owner of the house sees me crashed (we worked together) and I relate the story. We drive up to the trailhead and he is surprised by how far I walked and we get to my truck and Reece is sitting in the front seat...........the keys were in the tackle box the whole time!

When I asked Reece where he was he said he had become disorientated at the upper lake and then he thought he heard a bear and became quiet. The "bear" was of course me and he ended up spending a pretty cold night in the mountains in a t-shirt and I ended up walking an entire night convinced he was bruised and bleeding in pile of rocks trying to go and get help. What a bunch of dopey kids!