We have done the research, and we can tell you that there is a precise moment when the hair on a man's face transitions from "rugged five o'clock shadow" to "beard" — and that moment occurs approximately three weeks after his wife stops mentioning it. In this episode, we explore the full spectrum of facial hair taxonomy, including actual measurements involving micrometers, peas, and paper clips, because we are that committed to journalism.

But we don't stop there, because stopping there would be the decision of people with self-control, which we are not. We also get into the surprisingly deep waters of comedy theory — specifically, why the pause before a punchline is doing more heavy lifting than the punchline itself, and why the comedian who looks the most relaxed is usually the one who has rehearsed until he can no longer feel his face. (Which, depending on his grooming situation, may be a lot of face.)

We talk about self-deprecating humor as a legitimate vulnerability tool rather than just a cry for help — though, to be clear, it is sometimes also a cry for help — and we examine what it actually means to make a joke feel like a conversation instead of a hostage situation. We also address what to do when the audience goes silent, which is a thing that happens, and which feels exactly like you would imagine it feels.

Plus: DIY grooming disasters, the psychology of appearance, and the truth about hair transplants, which we are not qualified to discuss but will anyway.

Somebody brings up paper clips again. You're going to want to hear this.