Thread: A must read for any straightrazor user!

There I stood on the rocky dew covered mountain top as the sun was just cresting over the horizon. The birds were singing their morning songs as my trusty badger brush worked a froth inside my grandfathers antique civil war mug. The lather felt good as I painted it onto my face, and the smell of Col. Cronk's Amber Soap filled the air. "Snap", I hear twigs breaking behind me.

I turn to see the upturned curious snout of a California black bear. Apparently I am not the only one who enjoys the sweet aromatic bouquet of Colonel's soap. As the sun begins to warm the landscape my urine also begins to warm my leg as I pee on myself. I start to sniffle like a school girl which I notice angers the black hoarding menace. Suddenly, I see a blur of black coarse fur (no, not soft like my silver-tip badger brush) as the bear swipes and moves to engulf my frothy mug of soap.

After a jarring thud, I lie spilling my wet-works upon the dewy grass, and glimpse the bear moving away with glints of the Colonel's lather blotting the tips of his fur. I smile and soak up the moment and begin to reflect on the charm and mystique of straight razor shaving.

Keep shaving out there. I sure can't wait until these skin grafts take hold so I can get back to enjoying my morning ritual. By the way, the doctor was successful in removing my 1890 Sheffield from my rib cage without marring up the edge! Until next time, have a great shave!

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