So I was perusing the latest issue of cough Esquire cough yesterday (oh, like you’ve never been curious about the latest advances in shoe polish), when I happened upon this little ditty in the classifieds section, tucked between the testimonials for “Orly, the World’s Best Match Maker” and an ad for titanium clothes hangers:

Hmm. The Goatee Saver, eh? Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What’s it do?

 Well. That was oddly disturbing.

“Your goatee is much more than just facial hair. Your goatee helps fashion your identity.”

Yes, and that identity is apparently that of an Ed Hardy-afficionado with Patrick Bateman leanings.

“As an added bonus, your Goatee Saver can be used as a mouth clamp when recreating your favorite scene from Saw VI on an unfortunate sushi delivery man. ”

Look, the goatee is the facial accessory of the slovenly, obese man - period. Its purpose is to mask a weak/double chin or to give one something to stroke in lieu of an inaccessible, paunch-shielded junk. Adding the element of cold, angular precision to it is like putting lipstick on a beautiful pig. If the Goatee Saver takes off, what’s next? A utensil designed for chip-eating? A porn-viewing monocle? XXXL tuxedo t-shirts? Monogrammed sweat rags?

If you spend any more than 15 seconds each day shaving your goatee, I don’t know what to tell you. It’s creepy enough when people have perfectly straight lines on their beards, but at least they’ve made a full commitment. Your goatee should say one thing and one thing only - my facial hair doesn’t fill in on my cheeks, and I’m waiting for the hipsters to relinquish the moustache.

So thumbs down to the Goatee Saver people. Next time, focus your half-ass entrepreneurial efforts on, oh, I don’t know…a mouth guard with bristles in it, so you can be brushing your teeth while you sleep. Those extra two minutes in the morning are a killer.