Pimp My Beard - Season 3: Round 3

Monkey Business

The brightest burn shortest, it is often said, and for all but a few of the most eminent in the field of men's grooming, time at the top is notoriously short. Even the great Quinn, co-author of the Progressive Men's Grooming Manifesto, has yet to register a top 50 trending facial since signing a lucrative contract with an exclusive Turkish Barber's back in 2012. In beardery terms, it's simply rare for a new kid on the block to have staying power. But Gavin "Humongous" Finney is out to do just that. And he's taking no prisoners!

Mere months ago Finney sent shockwaves through the beardery community with his facial assault on the Fat Cats of the business community. The offices of PMB© have since been inundated with currency themed submissions as countless doppleganging disciples attempt to replicate and pay homage to Finney's groundbreaking new look. It was with no little anticipation therefore that this Editor looked up from his desk, alerted to Finney's approach by the merengue of coins in his pockets, which his newly adopted swagger had induced to dance. "What's popping, cracker?" He said, using slang. Unaccustomed to this form of address, yet used to moving with the times (as one must in this line of business!), I fired back, "What up, bitch?" It seemed to be received well and we completed an elaborate handshake before Finney sat down.

Finney: Monkey Business 2016

Only then did I have time to contemplate what he'd brought with him on his face. He noticed my eyes doing loop-the-loop as they traced the spiral of his helter skelter beardery. "Calm, innit?" He said. This slang even sounded as if it came from the current decade; I was going to struggle: "Yes... bruv". Finney continued, "Something switched after Common Cents.  Before, I was just like any other of the Guildford man dem, but now  I got bare youths coming up to me saying I'm a boss and wanting to tickle my chin." I replied hesitantly, unwittingly giving the words an interrogative inflection, "Right on." Finney was unphased, he went on, "Got all dem skets trying to get with me but man can't think bout nuffin but beardery. You get me?" I wasn't entirely sure that I did, but I said I did anyway, "Right on." I made mental note not to over do it with the right ons as Finney came to the point. "All my squad tried to do Euro signs in their beards for Brexit. I told them they were aiight, but  really I was like, those are some moist beards! An I ain't in the biz to get associated with no moist beards." - "Word." I chipped in, feeling like I was starting to get the hand of this. "Is that why you decided to sculpt a dope new beard?" Finney sat back in his chair and interlaced his fingers saying, "Gotta stay ahead of the game, fam."

A short silence was enjoyed as we both contemplated this simple beardery truth. My eyes started to spiral in toward the vortex on Finney's chin again before I snapped them away, chiding myself lest I lose my professional approach. "Why the monkey tail? Why Monkey Business?" I asked. Finney shrugged and smiled, "What can I say, I'm the king of the swingers, man." Although thinking to myself that this was a very cool thing to say, I didn't appreciate the full mischief of the remark until I read in the next day's papers that shortly after our interview, Finney had competed in a head to head mix-off with Goldie in a fashionable London nightclub (see pictures of the event below). There he was crowned the undisputed Jungle VIP.

Pimp My Beard - Season 3: Round 2

Catfish

Some things are just made to be: Rum and raisins; rhyme and reason; soldiers and syphilis; misuse of marsupials; Colgate and Val Kilmer; to be and or not to be: Sharky and George; raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, candle-lit dinners and reading from Dickens, slimy fat cabbages pickled in gin, these are a few inseparable things. And who could object to the insertion of Catfish and the murky depths into this most eminent list of binaries?

Here, never before photographed, Andrew, "Leather Chaps" Chapman, surfaces to offer a fleeting glance at the illusive Cat(fish)'s whiskers. The transcript which follows, is as faithful an interpretation of our interview as this editor could record.

This Editor: So good to finally meet you Andr... (remembering he ususally  prefers to go by his pseudonym) ... Leather Chaps. (a little nervously) It is OK to call you Leather Chaps, isn't it?

Leather Chaps: Slowly lowers his head to bring his lips into contact with the water which he gurgles into a slight froth, immediately breaking the tension.

This Editor: Indeed, you've had so many! I really had to do my research ahead of our meeting to make sure I was confident of what you were currently going by. I would have been embarrassed to have turned up today and introduced myself to "Audrey Chapburn" or "Chappel Strudel"!

Leather Chaps: Submerges to the eyebrows, the gurgling becoming a stream of bubbles that break playfully on the surface.

This Editor: No, I didn't realise you'd been "Chapping Sodbury" between "Chappel Strudel" and "Leather Chaps", that could really have caught me out. If you don't mind me asking, how did you get into the habit of giving yourself these new names with such regularity?

Leather Chaps: Remaining submerged, he paddles on the spot, his stream of bubbles becoming more intermittent.

This Editor: (understandingly) Yes, it can be.

Leather Chaps: Ascends to draw his head fully from the water, drips seeming to coagulate along the Catfish whiskers.

This Editor: Ahh, hence, "Bohemian Chapsody". And so that was it? Every six months or so a new one - "Careful, if you do it like that you're going to Chapsize the boat!", "Lady Chapperly's Lover", "Now Chaps what I call music!"

Leather Chaps: Thrashes about emitting a wet shlacking sound.

This Editor: Hahahaha! Yes, or a ribbon!

A period of hearty chuckling ensues; Leather Chaps bobbing rhythmically in the water, as this Editor gradually eases into guffaws which die away, despite threatening to break out into full scale laughter all over again -

This Editor: (collecting himself) On that note, I suppose we'd better get onto the Catfish. I take it, you weren't naturally drawn to beardery and men's grooming?

Leather Chaps: Lowers his head, this time gurgling through his nostrils.

This Editor: No, I can imagine. That's very poignant in a way.

Leather Chaps: Goes down through the gears with his gurgling, settling at a low glug.

This Editor: So, why now then for your first foray into the world of beardery? Aren't you worried that people will accuse you of jumping on the bandwagon? Of course, this is not my opinion, but I can just hear certain disgruntled beardery hopefulls complaining, "Oh he's only made it on Pimp My
 Beard© because of his rotational nomenclature!"

Leather Chaps: Draws himself up, displaying the shimmering Catfish in all its glory and holds himself there a moment.

This Editor: (wistfully) Yes. Yes, I suppose you're right.

Pimp My Beard Season 3: Round 1

Common Cents

Dollar Dollar bill y'all? Oooh, lets catch the Euro Star! Swap your daughter for some Dinar. Slap your Shilling around. Get your hands dirty in the Zloty potty. Rub one out at the Rupee raffle. Can't you see it's all Wong? Pawn in our Pesos as we Pound the vadge of the Cypriot Lira? Get Real, Brasil! We need to talk about Capitalism. A penny for your thoughts.

Nothing delights the PMB community more than to welcome a new member to the bosom of our velcro embrace. Season 3 is thus pledged to the next generation; the dewy eyed, bushy lipped progeny that must carry the clippers whence the grooming fathers have passed on. Firstwhile, we present Gavin Humongous Finney, with his dashing diatribe, Common Cents.

Gavin Humongous Finney: Common Cents

"Like so many of the kids in our town, my squad and I would while away our summers on the banks of the River Wey, satirizing swans and chewing lightbulb filaments for kicks." Recalls Finney. "Then one day, Martin didn't turn up. He'd got a job running girls and liquorice for a corporate financier in Lewisham. I was only a junior member of our squad at the time but I was indignant. I couldn't believe that he was gone, just like that. Swept away to a life of six figure transactions, as many Kit Kat Chunkies as he could eat, while here we were sharing out a single bar between five or six of us -  freezing it beforehand, so it broke more evenly. It was watershed moment in my political awakening, I just didn't know how best to make my stand. It was a painful existence - never finding expression for the sickly injustice that welled in my pancreas. That is until I came across an article anticipating the 3rd Season of Pimp My Beard™ that had been used as a coaster in my local Nero's. I ran home past the river to get an especially snide barb in at the swans for old time's sake, and got straight to work. I never thought anything would come of it when I sent away the photos during PMB's last unsolicited submissions window. Many of our old squad have moved on now. Several more snatched away in their prime by the claws of Capitalism to work for hedge funds, wholesale foods, government and the fisheries. I just hope that seeing my old mug bearding the burden of a dollar sign knocks some Cents back into them! Last thing I heard Martin was doing the fonts for numbers on the Nasdaq. Perhaps if this reaches him he'll give me a call."