Yes, you read that correctly. I purchased an Asylum RX V2 (seconds) and deployed it for the purpose of shaving my HEAD.
No, I'm not also a vigilante skulking Manhattan in the aftermath of a horrific home invasion. Nor am I Tyson's retired sparring partner suffering the pangs of adrenaline withdrawal and in need of a rush.
I'm just a regular, everyday, normal guy. I pull on my pants one leg at a time; same as the rest of you. However, before pulling on my pants each morning, I like to punch death in the throat.
Admittedly, in an initial moment of doubt I nearly reached for the SoftGuard blades. Fortunately, I was admonished by its colour scheme - these are blades designed for sensitive regions of the female anatomy. I took a deep breath, steadied my nerves and consecrated a marriage of the merciless Asylum razor and the biting steel of an unguarded Feather blade.
I suppose this audacious act places me alongside such rarefied company as Evel Knievel. Or perhaps some of those old-timey guys who went over Niagara Falls in their barrels.
But do not worry. I will not allow the inevitable acclaim to go to my head (no pun intended). I fully anticipate some of that crazy, seven-figure, razor brand sponsorship payola to start flowing my way. However, I will reject all of it.
I didn't undertake this ordeal for financial reward. I did so to share the wisdom…
The Asylum is a handsome devil. Loading is achieved (in suitable fashion) by loosening the handle a few turns and setting a blade into its lowered and gaping maw. The handle/knurling remained perfectly grippy in defiance of the sweat produced through such a delicate procedure. The blade-feel throbbed through to my marrow (which, as it turns out, is remarkably helpful in navigating a razor across the dark side of one's skull). The razor drew a single spot of blood on the uppermost conical part of cranium.
TLDR: it was the closest and most satisfying shave of my life
NOTE: I've disassembled the Asylum razor to ensure everyone can view this photo safely.
No, I'm not also a vigilante skulking Manhattan in the aftermath of a horrific home invasion. Nor am I Tyson's retired sparring partner suffering the pangs of adrenaline withdrawal and in need of a rush.
I'm just a regular, everyday, normal guy. I pull on my pants one leg at a time; same as the rest of you. However, before pulling on my pants each morning, I like to punch death in the throat.
Admittedly, in an initial moment of doubt I nearly reached for the SoftGuard blades. Fortunately, I was admonished by its colour scheme - these are blades designed for sensitive regions of the female anatomy. I took a deep breath, steadied my nerves and consecrated a marriage of the merciless Asylum razor and the biting steel of an unguarded Feather blade.
I suppose this audacious act places me alongside such rarefied company as Evel Knievel. Or perhaps some of those old-timey guys who went over Niagara Falls in their barrels.
But do not worry. I will not allow the inevitable acclaim to go to my head (no pun intended). I fully anticipate some of that crazy, seven-figure, razor brand sponsorship payola to start flowing my way. However, I will reject all of it.
I didn't undertake this ordeal for financial reward. I did so to share the wisdom…
The Asylum is a handsome devil. Loading is achieved (in suitable fashion) by loosening the handle a few turns and setting a blade into its lowered and gaping maw. The handle/knurling remained perfectly grippy in defiance of the sweat produced through such a delicate procedure. The blade-feel throbbed through to my marrow (which, as it turns out, is remarkably helpful in navigating a razor across the dark side of one's skull). The razor drew a single spot of blood on the uppermost conical part of cranium.
TLDR: it was the closest and most satisfying shave of my life
NOTE: I've disassembled the Asylum razor to ensure everyone can view this photo safely.
