Day 16: The sweetest mustache in the universe

There once was a man from Massachusetts,

Who had a mustache but was toothless,

One day he sat aghast while stroking his stache,

And said "Thank God my mother named me Rufus."

Mr. Mustachetic

I'm beginning to hate mustache. I can see why I've never attempted to grow something this fantastic before. I came this close to shaving mustache off today, all this bastard wants to do is go to the Mermaid and cruise for chubbies.

Day 9: A mustache for all seasons

My mustache doesn't blog on the weekends, but he does enjoy the occasional gin fizz, and by occasional I mean my mustache is hammered right now. I'm really thinking about getting mustache into a twelve step plan of recovery, but when we had the intervention at halftime during the Superbowl, mustache decided that would be a good time to pass out after throwing up in my lap. I'm not sure if it was the booze or the rousing performance by the who that made him sick.

Day 5: Gary

I was out with mustache last night and all of a sudden I heard someone yelling at a dude named Gary. When I turned to look I was slapped directly in the mustache and a chubby road whore started swearing at me in Hungarian. I tried to explain that I wasn't Gary, but she finally said " I ain't talkin to you, queer, I'm talking to GARY!" Before I realized that my mustache's name was Gary, he had punched the rogue whore directly in the fallopian tube. As I stood there over the wheezing hooker, Gary searched her purse for coke and kicked her in he ribs.

I like you mustache, but your effing crazy bro.

Day 4: Glengarry Glenmustache

PUT THAT COFFEE DOWN! Coffee is for mustaches only.

I know what you must be asking yourself, and the answer is yes, my mustache does tickle, but it is fully trained in shiatsu massage.

I was walking down the street yesterday and a group of elderly nuns were staring at my mustache. All of a sudden they began to weep at the sheer beauty that is mustache. One of them managed the courage to look directly upon the mustache and while she did she asked: " Who do you think you are with that mustache on your face?" Before I could say anything my mustache screamed: "F**K YOU! That's who I am, now go in the kitchen and fix me a turkey pot pie."

Wow, my mustache is a badass.

Day 3, the sweetest of all days

Today my alarm didn't wake me up, I was roused out of my slumber by my mustache. My mustache decided to wake me up by singing a soothing yet still alarming rendition of the theme to "Different Strokes". Yes mustache I agree, it does take different strokes to rule the world, it also takes a different kind of mustache.



Today I've decided to let my furry mange grow until it reaches Magnum status, or at least a Ditka... Powerstache...grow you filthy animal GROW!

Day 2 ( sorry day one )

It is officially day two of "28 days of mustache" month and I've got to say I feel slighlty more distinguished and less like a greasy Poncherelli today.

My upper lip had a nightmare last night. It dreamt that a hairy monster was trying to suffacate it and it woke up screaming. When I asked my upper lip what was wrong it told me about the horrific nightmare. I told my upper lip not to be frightened, one upper lips nightmare is another man's wet dream.