After 59 years, the exact moment of the new year's arrival has pretty much lost its ability to fascinate, so I turned in last night shortly before midnight. I had the most peculiar dream.
In the dream, I possessed a full mustache. I was standing in front of the mirror, studying my face, when I decided that what I really wanted was a little Hitlerian brush mustache. I commenced trimming the extreme flanks, and then suddenly, in an act of spectacular and inexplicable incompetence, with one swipe of the razor, I completely cleared the real estate located between my nose and the center of my upper lip (consisting largely of what I believe nose specialists refer to as the philtrum). The result was that I now had not one, but two Hitler mustaches, each one positioned slightly to the off side of its respective nostril.
What does it mean, Holmes?