Annons
Dudes: please stop putting things in your beards for 13 Instagram likes.There's flowers, the dudes, they do flowers too. Lego too. This putting things in beards thing sort of a phase that started early last year and Buzzfeed liked it so people kept doing it. And it's not— no, don't, it's not because I am incapable of growing a beard, this isn't just a case of hormonally-deficient jealousy, it's more than that. It's just… I mean there is just no point getting that much glitter everywhere just to—Dudes: please stop putting things in your beards for 13 Instagram likes.I have thick hair and I once put a chopstick in it and it stayed, and I thought, "Huh, okay". I did not think that was worthy of documentation for the ages. But move it down a few inches into a beard and suddenly – maybe – it is. This is the rub: beard adornment is maybe evidence that we need, if nothing else, a "lowest barrier to entry" for Internet content, a "you must be this tall to ride the rollercoaster" for uploading to Instagram, and that putting a tub of glitter or a lit match in your beard is not it, and anything else is. So, ask yourself: is this tweet I am about to send better than a dude buying and then applying glitter to his beard? Then yes, post it. Is it not? Maybe just save this one to drafts.Dudes: please stop putting things in your beards for 13 Instagram likes. You are making everything actively worse.On MUNCHIES: We Spoke To The Guy From The Restaurant That Serves Poo-Flavoured Curry
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Watch Skepta: Top Boy, a documentary about how Skepta is a top boy:
What is next, is the thing. Because dudes are going to just keep putting ever more absurd things in their beards – jam, Wotsits, frozen vials of jizz, bacon, tealights, Star Wars figurines, Haribo, torn out pages from the Bible, granola, petrol, Panini stickers, Lurpak, socks – that eventually there will be an irreversible rise in things-in-beards and we will collectively say: please stop putting things in your beard. And I think basically what is going to happen for us to get to that point is that someone is going to have to die. Someone is going to have to put uranium or a hand grenade or CJ de Mooi from Eggheads in their beard, and it will kill them, but they will take a photo of it in those brief whispery moments before death, uploading it to Instagram for 13 likes.
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But then: why am I annoyed by this? I can feel my blood pressure spiking even though it doesn't affect me in any way. The trite and visible fun of others is making me sadder to be alive. Surely that's my problem, and not the problem of men with beards having some simple fun on Instagram? Do I need to let go and ease up? Do have problems unseen lurking beneath the dark water of my psyche, ones I need to work out with spoken therapy and inward reflection? I can feel myself unravelling at the edges. Am I the real problem here? Am… am I the cunt?On NOISEY: How A Kid Running An Obscure Music Forum Became The Target Of The UK's Biggest Ever Piracy Case
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