Mustaches can do a number of different things depending on the person rocking the stache. A mustache can say one thing for one man, and something totally different for another. Lets go check out some noteworthy staches and do little analyzation of their meaning and background. Maybe we come up with some names for these works of facial hair. Mustaches are beloved optional facial features that everyone can enjoy– from rockstars to a child molestors– mustaches really are universal.
The Meathead: “Yeah, I play fookin football and I would have goatee but it feels uncomfortable wit my chinstrap on but really, it was getting me caught with the wife. I’d go home and say that I didn’t have a drink but the drunken slobber on my chin always seemed to reek of Glenfiddich. With mustaches, I don’t have that problem, Glenfiddy doesn’t dribble up ya know. I didn’t know if you knews that or not, but it don’t.”
The Struggler: “I just don’t fucking understand it. I did THREE regional productions of Sherlock Holmes on Ice back in Minneapolis but I just can’t seem to find work in New York. I hate this city. I think I’m going to pet my cat and write some suicide notes.”
The Creeper: “I did not grab her boobs. I grazed them. It was an accident and a complete coincidence that I was in the women’s bathroom. The story about me peeking over the changing room wall at JC Penney is a complete lie too. There are plenty of other 15 year old perve-stached kids in this town with braces.”
The Local: “I’ve been in Little 5 Points since I was sixteen. I bought my first case of PBR at 5 Points Package. All these yuppies keep moving into my part of town and spending all their money, and supporting our local economy, and it’s fucking bullshit man, I’ve been here for years!”
I always love going to parties, raves, concerts, and puppet shows where there are photo booths to get ridiculous in. Nothing like capturing the moment, eh? You know what else I love? Looking at random photo albums on Facebook from parties that I never attended or heard of. Some call it creepy, some call it inquisitive, I call it hilarious. All the following people came to party, but ended up getting ripped on by some random kids blog.
This guy is stuck at the nexus of Mortal Kombat and ecstasy. Not only does he look like a raging douche, but he also epitomizes how skewed one’s percepion of “cool” is while on drugas. This rookie rolled to the party solo. That is a Men’s Warehouse guarantee.
This pack of lesbos keeps it real. The girl in the middle is essentially an all-star. She came to party and she didn’t over do it with rookie antics like glowsticks or some hardass face like her linebacker friend to the left. She painted herself to look like a robot, then, she wrote “Fucking Machine” on her shirt. Point taken. Rage.
My gosh I’m scared of the girl on the left.
This fangbanger just got done reading the last of Twilight series and saw some humans to prowl on. When he’s not working at Hot Topic, he enjoys being the person everyone looks at during a party and wonders what the hell they’re doing there without a cape and a fake sword. This guy definitely dabbles in Dagorhir.
Look at this crew, they just rolled up to the party in a lifted Dodge Ram. These guys are killing it. Homie up front did drugs for the first time and decided it was worthy enough to break out his little hippie brothers tie dye shirt. Redneck Jim in the back left broke even out his hemp necklace. These guys drove all the way from Dawsonville to rage. Props to Sigma Wexicon.
Say hello to the drug dealer at the party. Tip to the custies, the bookbags these guys carry at concerts aren’t filled with overnight clothes and a toothbrush. If they are wearing a grill and a chain, you can put your life savings on the fact that this guy has a bag full of felonies. Props on the grill, that thing probably gets you laid on the reg.
Nice flair, dog. Besides working at Flingers, this guy listens to electronica while not shaving. Apparently, he’s so emo that it’s not even gay when he hooks up with dudes.
Until next time, have a weekend worth writing about and avoid being a douche on camera.