Shining My Shoes

Well well well! This is a turn out for the books! When I was younger, this was something I felt incredibly intimidated by. "Why?" I hear you ask. "They're shoes. How can a man be afraid of a shoe, unless it conceals a perfectly good knife, at which point one can just whip out their sword-cane and have at it with more splendour than the Hippodrome?"

Too true, my fellow, too true. Alas, the scene is not so comic to my eyes. There is attached to this wholesome task a great fear - that of ruining something with permanence, and realising every single action is irreparable. As soon as I apply a lick of polish, or cut a plank, or cut a whisker, it cannot be undone. As a good friend from Vietnam once warned yours truly when he was about to cut my hair with some questionable scissors, "I cannot make it longer, only shorter!"

That shouldn't stop one such as I, now should it?

"Certainly not!" I hear you cry. "Why, now is a perfect time to learn a new skill. Just like when you learned to whistle with your-"

Quite right. So let's see what this is all about!

Before

After ~ 1 Hour Trial and Error

Before

After ~ 1 Hour Trial and Error

Now that I have cracked the method and conquered a small burden of my life, all that is left is to add a dash of madness and more MANhours. Bully!