American Digest pushes a ton of traffic my way. I have no idea who runs the site, but may peace be upon him and his progeny. I saw this on the site just now.

YOU GUYS ARE RUINING MY BEARD FETISH.  Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve loved a man with a beard. To me, they meant strength, power, MANLINESS. Someone who could protect me. Unfortunately, you guys have turned it into a fashion statement. The beard has turned into the padded bra of masculinity. Sure it looks sexy, but whatcha got under there? There’s a whole generation running around looking like lumberjacks, and most of you can’t change a fucking tire.

Tire changing is becoming a mystery. A few summers ago I had a young hipster in my employ. He asked me once, “If I was on the side of the road with a flat tire, would you pull over to help me?”

At first I thought it was a joke, but his look suggested he was serious. I told him I would not because I would assume a man can change his own tire.  If I were on the side of the road changing a tire and some dude stopped, I’d reach for my gun, assuming he was up to no good. The kid was incredulous. Not about the gun. He could not believe I knew how to change a tire.

Look, I get it. I really do. I understand the motivation behind your beardedness. In fact, I even pity you. Thousands of years of evolution priming you guys to kill stuff, and chase stuff, and fuck stuff….and now what? You’re stuck at a desk all day. No battles to fight. No wars to wage. So you assert your masculinity the only way you know how. You brew beer. You grow some hair on your face. I’ve seen you, hipsters, sitting in downtown eateries, with your rock chick girlfriends, dipping your truffle fries, trying not to get the aioli in your mustache. I’ve seen the quiet desperation in your eyes. I know you’re screaming into the void.

But I still hate you for it. You’re confusing me. It’s now on me to suss out who is the real man and who is the poseur. Sadly, I fear most of you are the latter. Before this explosion of whiskers on trendy men everywhere, if I saw a bearded man it was safe to assume certain things about him. Like, he probably owned a hammer. Or washed his hair with a bar of Irish Spring. His beard was probably scented with motor oil and probably had remnants of last night’s chili in it.

I had to google “rock chick” and “truffle fries” and I still have no idea what these terms mean.

But you vegan nancyboys are a different breed altogether. You have your mountain man scruff, but you maintain it. You groom it. With products. A quick google search of “beard grooming products” turns up literally thousands of articles explaining how to have the most lustrous beard possible. Take this one from Philadelphia Magazine, where they tested TWENTY DIFFERENT VARIETIES of beard oil. The result of this intrepid testing?

I’ve had a beard for a couple of decades. I do “groom” it, but that means chopping off the stuff in the way once a week. My reason for having a beard is I hate shaving. It is not a fashion statement. It is the result of not shaving. Lopping off the stuff that’s sticking out in the wrong places takes a few minutes and that’s it. I’ve never heard of beard oil.

Yes. Yes it does, you GIANT PUSSY. Am I reading “Cosmo”? What the fuck is going on here? Betty White has bigger balls than you. Look, I know I sound harsh, but I’m actually trying to rein myself in. A beard is meant to keep your face warm. Seriously, that’s it. You guys had your warm beards so you could go out and hunt us food, and we had our boobies with warm milk to feed the young’uns. That’s why I love beards. It is a natural, physiological response. I want a man who can keep me safe. How did it all get so twisted?

I don’t want to go back to Cro-Magnon days. I’m glad we have more gender equality and I like not having to worry about being eaten by larger creatures. But I am calling for a moratorium on the hipster beard. I demand that you reach for a razor if any of the following are true:

Your beard is accompanied by a bowtie or horn-rimmed eyeglasses. Why on earth do you want to look like Sigmund Freud? At least he could blame this strange look on his massive cocaine problem. Sometimes a cigar is just a douchebag.

You grew a beard to be “ironic”. But you don’t exactly understand what “ironic” means, or why having a beard would be ironic if you did.

You take time off from your entry-level graphic design job only to attend South by Southwest, take your French Bulldog to the vet, or lie on your futon and weep.

You do not know what an Allen wrench is, but can explain, in detail, the difference between a macchiato and an Americano.

There is an existing Instagram photo of you wearing a knit beanie and chewing on astalk of wheat.

Unrelated, I had to drop off something at the UPS store. The clerk had a hipster beard. He was also wearing a crocheted kufi. He was obviously not an African so being a dick I greeted him in Arabic. I figured he was a dimwit and would have no idea what I was saying.

Me: “kayf Haalak?”

Hipster: What?

Me: I saw the kufi so I just assumed you were an Arab.

Hipster: Kufi?

I explained to him that his head gear was a traditional way for Arab homosexuals to identify themselves. That’s not true, but what the hell. I’m guessing the kufi went in the trash soon after.