Now, I'm the first to admit, I am not the most hirsute in the bunch, and so shaving my face is not quite as tough on a razor as, say, removing shellac from an old dining room table with Hepplewhite legs. But I'm doggoned if I haven't been using the same blade insert doodad since Tisha B'Av (which is in August). I don't know why this is. Every time I lather up the old face (emphasis on old) I always think, today is the day I will start whittlin' off the whiskers and leave abrasions and contusions on a facial plain that, quite frankly, does not need any more damage done to it.
|See how it gleams in the morning sun|
I don't think it was supposed to happen this way. This is maybe the fourth or fifth newly-installed blade set in this razor, and none of the others lasted this long. As Oprah® would say, What I Know For Sure is, when I do need to change it, the next razor will give me one, two, maybe four good shaves, and then will slice me dangerously close to the carotid artery.
You guys know what I mean.