(I feel i have to preface this post again by saying I am not putting down the Movember movement per se. I just want to rant about the mustache part.)
Here we are…just a few short weeks away from the first of November, which also heralds the kick-off for the Movember campaign. If you have lived under a rock in recent years, you may not know that otherwise clean-shaven men attempt to grow a thick, lush mustache to raise awareness for men’s cancers. Their resultant ‘mo’s’ are symbolically shaved off 30 days later.
Let me state for the record that I’m not against mustaches or beards in general; Just on men I have to kiss. Of course, that is really just Birdman.
I have so many reasons that I despise mustaches, but let’s start off with the obvious, it looks bad. It’s like telling the world that you don’t give a shit that your face looks like you are a neanderthal. You can go ahead and trim it, shape it and generally try to mold it into something you can be proud of, but it still looks like ass. It is the facial hair equivalent of wearing Crocs.
Also, it seems to me that some men were just not meant to have a full face of swarthy, masculine hair. Sure, it’s fine for the Tom Selleck types, with their dashing good looks and their devil-may-care attitudes, but for the rest of the men, the job of hair growing should be strictly delegated to the legs, arms and to a lesser degree, the groin. For most men, they are not wearing the beard: The beard is wearing them. Fashion fail.
In the department of TMI, facial hair is also a bit of a sensitive-skin offender. No one loves getting thisclose with 1o days of stubble. Some fellas insist their mustaches only get softer over time, but I ask you this: Would you rather wipe with toilet paper or with sand paper? It’s THAT kind of a difference, brother. I’m just sayin’….
Sadly, Movember will be observed by Birdman, but I will not be privy to see it personally. He will be nether-regions-deep in the pursuit of fast money in the oil patch this November, and I will only see his glorious pursuit of a man-beard via Skype. Although I will be able to see it’s humble beginnings sprout forth into maturity over the interwebs, that puppy will be seeing the business end of a razor before he makes his trek back across the frozen tundra to the cocoon. In one last act of defiance against my beardist tyranny, he will shave it down into new and horrifying versions and take photos to share and horrify me, and most certainly, you.
I’d like to know where you got the notion to rock the boat, baby,