Now, chances are you know that November is National Novel Writing Month (you'd probably be better off just reading one instead) and National Diabetes Awareness Month, but although there doesn't seem to be an official site or organization sponsoring it, I've noticed a grassroots web-based push for a National Beard Month.  And guess who's got one?
 

Of course nowadays, in this wild, wiki world we live in, who needs official recognition, sponsorship, or endorsement?  Look at Deval. 

Anyway, I'm toying with the idea of actually taking No Shave November seriously.  I don't consider myself a beardo, ordinarily.  I don't consider it a beard.  It's scruff.  If I let it grow I look like a Lubavitcher.  Better than going clean-shaven, though (circa some time ago when I thought I had a future):

When I was back home in Indiana for the holidays last, my mother, who had not seen me without my scruff for a decade or more, kept nagging me to shave.  Like, really shave.  And I did.  And she was like, "oh."  Everybody was like, "oh."  And that was the last time I was ever seen clean-shaven. 

My face, at least.