Although I don't respect, understand or even tolerate my sister's questionable zeal for moustaches, I do appreciate her dedication to proving a point. She's thought of two new hot contemporary moustached men:
1.) Jude Law as Watson in the new Sherlock Holmes movie:
and
2.) Ned Flanders
...I hate to admit it, but she's starting to make an uncomfortable amount of sense. And I don't like it. This is my blog. Around here the ratio of hot moustached men to molestery moustached men should always swing towards molestery. It's time I level the playing field. So, Rebecca, I'll see your Jude Law and raise you a Rollie Fingers: Yes, that's right. The Oakland A's Rollie Fingers. A name that sounds like exactly what he'll do inside of you. He's inspired me to name my future son "Statutory Fingerbang" because what's life without challenges?
Oh and hey Bec, remember all those Sweet Valley High books we had growing up? Specifically, remember #5, All Night Long? I sure do. Because I remember having to lock it in the bathroom at night for fear the cover model would come alive and ask me to play a game with my mouth that I can never tell my parents about: I think that majestic golden tan and tidy little moustache speak worlds for themselves.
Score: Becca: 2 Meg: 2
If you look in your court, Ms. McBlogger, I believe you will see there's a ball in it.
- 2b1b reader Lovenotestoself challenged Becca in the comments section of her Moustache Manifesto to give an example, besides her boyfriend, "of a man rocking a mustache today that most normal women without daddy issues would want to ride." And as I knew she would be, Becca was more than up to the challenge. She found not one, but two examples:
1.) Jason Lee, of My Name is Earl fame
and 2.) Randy Marsh, of Stan's Dad fame
Well played, Ms. McBlogger...well played indeed.
- (NOTE: It is so incredibly vital to me that you turn up the volume and/or put in your headphones and hit play at the end of this anecdote. If not, it will ruin the entire effect and my day will be shot to hell. Mmkthnxenjoy.)
I got a slew of emails after Becca's Moustache Manifesto from readers inviting my sister to various upcoming Moustache-themed parties. Not so much inviting me, more so specifically inviting her. Which I get, considering my great disdain for The 'Stache! However, it reminds me of a traumatic event that happened a few years ago involving MySpace (as most traumatic events do.) This was back when MySpace wasn't exclusively for child molesters, emo kids and sexually active thirteen-year-olds and people actually used it to network. One night, College Rommate Danielle came home from dinner with her sister and was like, "Dude. My sister keeps going on a shit ton of dates thanks to this new-fangled thing called a 'My...Space'?" We had a good laugh and were all, "That's weird!!! LOLZ! Who trusts people they meet on the Internet? FREAKS! LOLZY WHHHAAAA?!?" and then ran to our respective corners to sign up for our own accounts. Naturally, I only uploaded pictures of myself where I look unrealistically attractive, which included a picture of me and my sister looking "petrified" at the Petrified Forest in Calistoga Springs, California. (God we're adorable.) Within minutes of posting my profile, I got a message from a hot 26 year-old DC guy with the subject, "Just Wondering..." I browsed his (dreamy) profile and had pretty much sent out our wedding invitations and monogrammed the guest towels towels when I actually read his message. It said something to the effect of the following:
Just Wondering... Does your sister have a MySpace page?? She is GORGEOUS!
Aaaaand—
- I haven't been on MySpace in legitimately over two years and decided to check out my profile this morning for old time's sake. The following is what I wrote for favorite movie: "The 1975 classic Mitchell starring a perma-drunk Joe Don Baker and Dynasty's Linda Evans."
And for favorite music: "Funk music. Pure funk though."
...Is it cocky to say I would totally date myself?
- I would like the world to know that Boss #1's ringtone is Jamie Foxx & T-Pain's Blame it on the Alcohol. That's it. That's all I got. I just wanted you to know. And now you do. K, have a good day.
- And speaking of Boss #1 and bad musical choices! You know what really ruffles my feathers? When I'm literally given AN day to plan a 40-person cocktail party, so I hustle my fuckin' ass off to make it happen and when I actually do make it happen and stop to look around the room and think, "Wow Meg! You did it! It looks amazing in here!" And then Boss #1 immediately blasts Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy through the sound system. That really ruffles my feathers. Because the Peking Lacquered Duck atop Wild Rice Cakes that I was able to get Dean & Deluca to pull out of their asses in about, oh, 30-seconds, was not meant to be paired with drunk sorority girl music, a-thank you very much. If I knew this was the kind of shindig B#1 wanted me to throw, I would have just called Jumbo Slice and Tenley Liquors and saved myself an anxiety attack. Christ.
- Autobiography by Ashlee Simpson is one of my main gym jams. I don't really know what to tell you about that. I'm not saying she's the musical genius of a generation, I'm just saying when I'm losing energy mid-workout and she shouts, "I'M A BADASS GIRL IN THIS MESSED UP WORLD! I'M A SEXY GIRL IN A CRAZAY WORLD!", I sort of feel like "MEEE TOOOO A. SIMPS! ME TOOOO!" and feel like I can carry on. I don't know. That was a strong statement. I sort of wish I hadn't just written that but I'm too lazy to delete it. Anyway, I was walking home from the gym the other night singing Autobiography in my head and instead of singing, "Right now I'm solo but that will be changing eventually", I sang, "Right now I'm sober but that will be changing eventually."
And that is when I realized I might be a raging alcoholic. Thanks subconscious! Wink!
Hey folks, it’s Becca, Meg's sister. She emailed me after her post on Thursday, alerting me to the fact that the public responded quite vocally to her mention of moustache season, and that response was a hearty "yes" and "please." I'm with you. But she herself doesn't understand the appeal so she's asked me to explain it to her, here on the blog.
One word & two letters: Magnum, P.I. Hot man, hot 'stache. Does anyone watch Magnum P.I. on A&E?? It’s on at noon or something so I haven't watched it since college but back in the day I was a huge fan. Oh Tom Selleck. You. You and your tan and your bootie shorts and your huge luxurious 'stache. You solve crime, you live in Hawaii, and you look damn good doing it. I am not sure if Magnum P.I. started my obsession or just merely reawakened a feeling I didn't even know I had. A feeling of love towards the moustache. This is truly one of the great 'staches in the world of modern 'stache history. A landmark, if you will. Tom Selleck himself has always sported a spectacular 'stache and I like to think that he refused to play Magnum P.I. if they wouldn't let him keep it.
We didn’t know many moustaches growing up so I think that Meg maybe just suffers from a lack of exposure. Mr. Meehan the elementary school gym teacher had one (“down doobie doo, sorry about you” anyone?): And so did our neighbor Ned. Ned’s moustache terrified Meghan. Literally, screaming crying anytime it came near her. She was probably under 5 at the time and I remember thinking “what's all the fuss about??” I believe the best answer she can come up with now is that it was “large and bristly and coming near her” which sounds so wrong on so many levels. And I know what you're all thinking, that the ‘stache is the common facial adornment of creepy child molesters, ergo …. But no. We just think she really didn’t like the moustache.
I think more people would like the ‘stache if they separated it from its bad reputation. Sure, rednecks have moustaches, child molesters have moustaches, the unibomber’s police sketch had a moustache, cops have moustaches—generally people you don’t want to mess with. But come on! Be open minded! Every character in every Western ever has a moustache. Tombstone alone has the following glorious moustaches: Kurt Russell; Val Kilmer; Bill Paxton; Sam Elliott; Powers Boothe; Jason Priestly; Thomas Haden Church. I mean wow—a shining team of attractive, non-molester moustache-bearers. Ditto for Lonesome Dove—even freakin’ Ricky Schroeder has a (sort of) moustache in that! I can think of nothing more harmless than Ricky Shroeder’s sweet pre-pubescent attempt at a moustache. I want to hug it.
Lets just address it—the ‘70s porn star aspect. I get it. The image of a guy in nothing but gym socks and puffy hair with a moustache … sure. I totally get it. Ron Jeremy. Right. But isn’t there some kind of charm to that? Doesn’t that say “Hey ladies (or gentleman) I am here and I got a blow-out and I meticulously groomed my facial hair and I put on these clean gym socks all in an attempt to ravish you. And ravish you I will. Rarrrr!” Thanks for the effort, porn star. I can’t speak for the rest of world but I happen to like it when my sexual partners make efforts to look attractive and are into things like grooming.
As you all know I’ve hereby officially anointed “Moustache Season” – this season falls between Labor Day and Memorial Day. Official motto: “When the White Pants Go Away, the Moustaches Come Out to Play.” This started because I – as we’ve clearly established – like me some moustache. My bf was willing to oblige. To be fair he has a full beard. But he did shave it into a moustache for my birthday. True story. Anyway, he always said that it’s too warm for facial hair of any sort in the summer, hence the seasonality of the situation. Most guys will agree with this, though I think the full beard is a bit warmer than the solo moustache. I do not in any way want to discourage anyone from sporting the ‘stache year round. Please, by all means. The “no white pants after Labor Day” rule doesn’t apply in all situations (tropical locations, hospitals, Cheesecake Factory) therefore the moustache rule has its own exceptions and I encourage you to get creative.
Speaking of beards, I am also a fan of the beard. But I felt that beards get enough love (or at least not as much hate) so they don’t really need a season. If beards had a motto it would be “Beards—Widely Accepted Since 1864.” And a word about goatees—horrible. Seriously truly horrible. Commit, man—commit to the full beard or the moustache. This Comic Book Guy from Simpsons thing you have going on is not doing you any favors. We can still tell you’re fat. Sorry.
In summation, I leave you with this final thought: A moustache is like the hot sauce of the facial hair world—its always appropriate and it goes great with beer.
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