I want a dude with a beard. A big, bushy man-beard. That tickles charmingly. What I don't want is stubble. Stubble is pain. No, I am (seriously, no sarcasme here) a sucker for the hobo-beard. It makes me all... grrr... protect me caveman-manly-man.
Apart from fantasizing about beards I am bored, I think I may have lost my phone, and my diet went to hell on a river of chilli-nuts. And I'm feeling the celibacy. I might start hitting on potted plants and roadsigns.
Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight! And take him away before he grows stubble or decides to shave his man-face.
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