Guess what? I didn't cut myself. It didn't hurt. I looked like a million bucks. Later that day, supermodels came up to me on the street to touch my face. Like, lots of them. After about the 36th one, I noticed that one out of every three supermodels who stopped to touch my face erupted into spontaneous orgasm. Oddly enough, an enterprising scientist was there to collect their sexual discharge and combine it with a saline solution that, when fed intravenously, has been proven to cure cancer in laboratory rats in a double-blind placebo controlled study.
Not really, Mr. Pibbles. You're still gonna die.
Wait. Maybe not all of that is true, but I did have a completely fine shave. So fine that I forgot to buy shaving cream. I mean, I'm sure if I were bleeding profusely for hours after going sans cream I would have remembered. But I forgot, and the next day, I shaved the same way again. And it kept going that way until I realized that I hadn't used shaving cream for about two months.