“Men are the fleas in the gray beard of God, and I’m just itching to meet Him.”

“I enjoy scratching itches on my body with my beard stubble. The worst though is when my lower back itches.”

“I stitched an itch to my side. As far as surgeries go, I’m just barely scratching the surface.”

“My beard has started growing a beard of its own, and I’m stuck having to take it for a walk.”

“I’m growing an Abe Lincoln beard. On my ball sack.”

“I’m itching for battle—with a mosquito bite. The only thing in life I’ll scratch at more is the need to be loved. I’m so bloody needy.”

“Tomorrow is promised to no man, though I’m under the impression I have an earthly meeting with God on the day after tomorrow. So that’s nice.”