15 May 1999 - BEARD BRUSHER
I have a new job now as a door-to-door beard brusher. It's my job to visit elderly gentlemen and assist them in grooming their beards. Some of the old fellers I get on my round make me laugh. One of them told me that he had a pigeon living in his beard! I laughed and laughed, but couldn't work out why he wasn't also laughing.
I then realised that he really did have a pigeon in his beard, but it wasn't alive, and from the smell I judged that it had been there some weeks. I asked if he wanted it removed, but he just asked if I wanted my teeth punched.
17 May 1999 - BEARD BRUSHER
Last night I was called out to an address in Leeds, where an elderly gent had somehow got his beard caught up in his ceiling fan. When I arrived he was spinning around at quite a rate, and his flailing legs had already knocked trophies and crockery from nearby shelves.
When I tried to turn off the fan, the switch came away in my hand. I had little choice but to knock the old man down with a broom. He was grateful. But when I asked how the accident had happened, he would only mutter something about "disco dancing".
18 May 1999 - BEARD BRUSHER
I've been fired from my job as a roving community beard brusher. It all came to a tragic end when I tried to groom one octogenarian's beard while eating some candy floss. My attention was distracted for one second, and before I knew it the floss had become entangled in his beard.
What's more, the elderly gent turned out to be allergic to all types of floss. Within seconds his face had puffed up, and he somewhat resembled something out of Ghostbusters. Also, he didn't appreciate my cry of: "I ain't afraid of no ghost!"