A moth-ridden, rat-infested family heirloom…

Posted on December 1, 2009

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…and that describes – with great accuracy – what my ‘mo looked like after a month.

If you have lousy sense of imagination, that is.

30 days after attempting a great charitable act, it’s time to conclude this embarrassing chapter of my life.

Truth is, I had problems thinking up something truly unremarkable while sitting here at my desk. What most people grow in three days, I take a month. What most people clip within three days, I had nothing to show for. And naturally, when people showed off their ‘mo, it looked good. Mine? If I had to give rate it on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being “You mean that’s a ‘mo? Ha Ha Ha Ha ROFL LMAO” and 10 being “Hey mate, nice ‘mo!”, it’s a -25.

I’ve ran out of negative superlatives to describe my ‘mo, let alone define what a -25 is.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you "A Failed Asian Experiment". *runs away and hide*

By the third week, Michele refused to kiss me, insisting she didn’t marry a toilet brush. I realised I had to just let my ‘mo grow out as it couldn’t be trimmed. It wasn’t thick enough, nor was there enough growth in ample areas to warrant a trim. It wasn’t full enough to be passed off as a ‘mo, but there was sufficient hair in all the right areas to be spotted out from a crowd.

Catch 22, only I am none for the better with either options.

I think just for once, I will give up the idea of Asians having facial hair. I truly envy non-Asians with their thick coat of luscious Persian rugs sitting on their face. It shapes their faces so well and it complements their age or character very well should it see them fit to grow one.

On the plus side, I managed to raise $28 from all my friends for the Movember fund. I was too embarrassed of my ‘mo to ask them for anything more than a dollar donation. All of them gladly obliged, but none could resist a poke at my attempt.

“You call that a ‘mo? Aww you poor thing, hold on let me grab my purse.”

Poor form indeed.

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