Eyebrows, Zombies, and Perspective

I heard someone make a bold statement recently: A real man would never pluck his eyebrows.

This caused me some consternation. You see, I own a tweezers. And my eyebrows are prone to wander. Like Jabez, they seem very interested in enlarging their territory. The east brow is a firm proponent of the formation of the United Eyebrow of Ben. Thankfully the west brow is committed to the current Confederate Eyebrows of Ben.

So I police them. I maintain borders. I have no desire to look like Bert or this poor guy (I know they are obviously fake).

Don’t get me wrong, I won’t be rocking the Boy George look anytime soon.

So what is my response to the person who doubts a real man can pluck his eyebrows? Dude, you’re wrong. It’s a matter of perspective. Don’t think of it as grooming, think of it as warfare . . . but wait, it gets better.

Hair is dead, yet it is alive. It is undead. Just like zombies. So it’s not just warfare, it is zombie warfare. And a real man should never shrink from zombie warfare.

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