Consider, if you will, the pitiful life of the average pogonophobic. ‘What’s a pogonophobic,’ I hear you ask? A pogonophobic, dear reader, is a person with a morbid fear of beards or facial hair. How quickly their daily goings-on must transform into nightmarish, hair-filled scenarios brimming with unimaginable terrors. The accidental glimpse of Tom Selleck while changing TV channels. Waking in a cold sweat with a head full of Ned Flanders. And what could be worse than a monstrous craving for fried chicken only to flee in fright at the Colonel’s wondrous white whisker wings? This is what; a veritable ‘perfect storm’ for pogonophobics the world over. They call it hell on earth. We call it ‘The Distinguished Gentleman’s Ride’.
If you’re anything like me, you usually only wear a suit and tie to weddings, funerals and the odd court appearance – it has been a while since the last one. So it’s great to add another occasion to the list. Yes, it’s that time of year again when the most dapper motorcyclists from around the world dust off their suits, polish their shoes, trim the beard, clean granddad’s smoking pipe, splash on a liberal amount of Old Spice and google the words ‘how to tie a tie’.
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