slowly (and painfully) cracking the DE shaving code

Some months ago the ever-spinning wheel of hyperfixations halted abruptly on the world of double-edged safety razors. It was weeks and weeks of research, contemplation, and tactical assessment. When the effect changed from interest to nausea, as often happens, I knew it was time to close the chapter by purchasing the equipment. The list of necessary items was as follows: a 100 pack of safety razors, the razor itself, the shaving foam, a brush, an alium block, styptic pencil, and an after-shave. With everything setup on my bathroom shelf, I proceeded to have my first ever oldschool shave. The term "razor burn" does not describe the evidence of multilation on my face and neck. Calling it razor burn is to refer to Nero's immolation of ancient Rome as a mere health and safety oversight. My neck was flayed; the first micromillimeter of the skin gone and replaced by what appeared to be a peeled tomato. When everything dried up a stranger could have mistaken me as a survivor of a rear naked…