Moments ago, I had another such discovery. My wife handed me a cup of water, and I rapidly downed it. Quite thirsty was I. And of course, as I tilted my head up, I realized I hadn't quite shaped my lips to the cup. I felt the water trickle down onto my lower lip and no doubt onto my shirt. That's what's happened every other time I've drank too fast. All over my nice Spurgeon hoodie. But not this time. To my amazement, when I looked down at my hoodie, there wasn't a drop of water on it. Like a sponge, my now-somewhat-thick beard soaked up the rebel liquid, squashing its insurgency against my rule over my hoodie. With one hand, I stroked the beard, and the water came off like a wet bear twisting in the wind. Pretty much awesome.