Cheap Whiskers

Ok, let me say this first, I will never again wear a mustache, (knowingly). I hate shaving. I remember when I was a kid I could not wait to be old enough to grow whiskers and shave. Foolish, foolish child. When I was in the service I had to shave sometimes twice a day. I hated it. And now when I look in the mirror and see what appears like a homeless man looking back at me, I say it again. I HATE SHAVING. It's not bad enough that it's lengthy routine. Waiting for the water to heat up, futzing with a clogged can of shaving cream, trying to find a decent cartridge, and why , why in the world do razor cartridges cost $14.00 a 4 pack. There are the careful deft movements that cannot be safely accomplished first thing in the morning. I usually wind up doing a skin graft harvest that would bleed just as badly if I had used a potato peeler. If I'm lucky enough, and have not lost too much blood, there is still the mandatory cleaning of the sink, followed by 20 minutes or so of burning discomfort. AAAAhhhgghh! I pray one day they will come out with a chemo-powered device that would just make your whiskers fall out. I have tried everything to make my blades last longer than 3 shaves, washing them out diligently and spraying them dry with canned compressed air. Nothing works. The manufacturers have me right where the want me. I'm like an addict who doesn't even enjoy the increasingly expensive fix. Shaving is poop!