Ahoy, me fellow salty sea dogs and proud privateers!
Cap’n Jim here to tell ye we have been bequeathed with an honor. It seems that we’ve been named a Top 20 Beard Blog by Feedspot. Outlandish, ye say? Pish-tosh! (That be pirate speak for “I disagree.”) Aye, the Cap’n tells it like it be, and the only punches we pull around here be when the taxman boards the vessel every April. (Face it, lads, every pirate needs to know when ye be outgunned.)
Since I founded Blackbeard for Men in 2010, we’ve grown a wee bit. Originally, filled the orders meself, I did, from the back of me leaky, barnacle-encrusted dinghy. Now we have a surly bunch of rum-soaked miscreants and a much larger vessel, suitable for keelhauling when necessary. In fact, ye must pardon me for a moment; I hear blubbering; must be time to haul ol’ Sharkbait McSeasnake back aboard…
Okay, as I was saying, we may have grown a bit, but we still give each and every order personal attention. We still ship every order direct from our fine vessel (with spiffy, brand-old hardwood flooring, mind ye,) docked here at the Port of Los Angeles. Further, we, the crew at Blackbeard for Men, be a devastatingly handsome assemblage of beardsmen ourselves. (Well, except fer Cap’n Tanya of course. To her credit, tried mightily she has to grow a beard, but fate has cheated her, sadly. Fortunately, she gets to revel daily in the startling awesomeness of our fierce, bearded crew.)
Indeed, it be pretty much all beard, all the time around here, and frankly, constant immersion in the sheer manly power of it all… ah, a glorious thing ’tis. The Cap’n has the best job in the world. I be proud, so proud, to be able to work with such an able crew of sea hands, each with his own profound display of facial masculinity.
And the best part be, thanks to Blackbeard for Men, each of us looks significantly younger than when we started this enterprise. Aye, just a few short years ago, the Cap’n’s beard was white as the drifting snow. And first mate Ryan, only in his mid-30s, had salt n’ pepper all over his chin. Mateys, the only salt n’ pepper ye be wanting on yer chin be when ye be enjoying a feast from the spoils of a ship ye’ve just taken! Aye, now Ryan has his original brownblack shade back, and, might I add, has just gotten engaged. Congrats, matey, and may she never learn what a right scoundrel ye truly be! In fact, I could tell her a few stories… remember that night in Vegas, when we sank that police car and stole all the cops’ weed? Arr, good times…
Sailing forward, we will continue to be here to give ye all generally useless advice, which ye really, really should not follow under any circumstances — ye have been warned! — and to luxuriate in all things beardly. For we lads have a magic power — the power to increase our manhood, our charisma, our sex appeal, and all-around kickassedness, simply by letting our facial hair grow (but not too long, pirates. Many ladies prefer a tamed beard — or else they may just have to tame ye.) Aye, if only we had known sooner how we could empower ourselves with a distinctive goatee, Van Dyck or soul patch; indeed, that it would be the proverbial wind in our sails, well, many of us would have grown one much friggin’ sooner, I tell ye that! When ye be rockin’ a mighty beard, not even a skiff full of sea-hags can sink ye!
Alas, Father Time (he may be a father, but face it, lads, he be a right bitch) has other plans for us. Soon after we discover our fabled magic beard power, we find the demon gray seeping into our facial hair, like sand crabs at low tide. Sure, we ignore it at first, but before long, ye catch a glimpse of yerself in the glass and gasp — ye look bloody old! Can that really be yer face, or be it yer grandpapa? And surely as the moon pulls the waves, our magic power begins to wane. As our beard color fades, our authority, our vitality, sexual magnetism, our ability to attract anyone with only a little flex of yer beard — evaporates like a thimble of camel drool in the Gobi. Ye can almost feel the testosterone dripping down yer pantaloons into yer boots.
And that is exactly why I invented Blackbeard for Men — to give all of us rogues our power back. Many of us cannot use those toxic beard dyes with those harsh chemicals. Aye, I myself experienced terrible burning after using the popular drugstore beard dye for a few weeks. The application process was awful as well, and that smell! If I never smell that putrid ammonia smell ever again, it will be too soon. I’d rather stick me head into a bucket of boiling creosote than to deal with dreaded beard dye ever again.
And that’s why I created a gentle, hypoallergenic alternative. A solution for proud beardsmen like us who simply can’t stand the smell, the irritation, and the hassle of pernicious beard dyes. Ahoy, mateys! Blackbeard for Men has sailed into port. No longer need ye fear that young children will come running up to ye with their Christmas lists. No longer need ye worry that ye won’t get that promotion because ye be a little ragged around the edges. No longer will the fairer sex turn the other cheek when ye flash yer best come-hither look. Yer beard is yer power, and we at Blackbeard for Men be here to help ye not only keep but to magnify that power, pirates. Stand tall, gentlemen. We be bearded. Can I get an “Arr!!!”?
May yer mast and yer drink always be stiff.