The Chin Curtain? If I overheard someone talking about a "chin curtain" I would've thought it was some random sex act that may have involved a droopy vagina all up in your face.
MY facial hair type isn't on here. I guess technically I don't have one. I LOATHE facial hair. I can go a few days without shaving but eventually I start to itch to the point where I scratch my neck so much that people must think I have scabies.
If I were to let my facial hair grow out though - it's shape would resemble something along the lines of Canada. Big patches, small patches, completely uneven. When you add in that I have a mixture of brown AND blonde hairs I look like a calico cat gone hideously wrong. Or, if you prefer my friend Gina's take on my beard - I look just plain "homely".
I know this because 2 years ago I had a contest with Matt. "Who can go the longest without shaving?!" I don't really remember what the prize was - or what would happen to the loser. I'm just all about having a laugh at our own expense.
I think we lasted about 3 weeks. 3 weeks of utter agony. People's reactions slowly went from "Ooh! Are you growing a beard?" to "So . . . gonna shave soon? Please?!"
Eventually I took all the abuse I could handle (I think it was when a homeless guy with a sign told me to "keep on moving bucko" instead of asking if I had a dollar, a quarter, anything)
Matt and I came to an agreement. We'll both shave - but so it wasn't all for nothing we'll shave our grotesque beards into hilarious horseshoe mustaches!! WOOOOOO! Wal-Mart job fair, here I come!!
I shaved my beard into the little strips going down my chin and loved that I could at least wear a scarf without getting wool pills stuck on my neck like I'm "Chad, The Hideous Velcro Man". I went through all of my classes that day - totally acting like I was ALL ABOUT my new look. I also enjoy watching people try to compliment me when I look like a fool.
When I saw Matt later that day I had completely forgotten about my mustache. I'm sure I would have been instantly reminded of it when I saw Matt's - but I never saw Matt's. Because he never fucking did it. The little bastard just shaved himself clean while I'm walking around looking like a grease monkey trawling the town for a high school girl that I can lure into my old buick with promises of beeeeeer. It was like showing up to a costume party where you're the back end of a horse, but at the last minute your front end decided not to dress up.
I was totally that horse's ass all day.
Oh well, if nothing else at least I know beforehand that I'll never be able to pull off the "Hulihee" and can save myself the embarassment.