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 Whatstache?: The whatstache is for the natural stache sporter. It basically insinuates that you are so manly that you don’t even notice the mustache, hence, the whatstache?
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.
Sometimes good music finds you.
While at Summerfest in Virginia Highlands, one of my good friends and his wife were discussing their plans for that evening when they mentioned they were going to see Passion Pit at the Drunken Unicorn. Just the name “Passion Pit” sounded like a rager of a name for a band so I determined I need to know more about these indie fockers. This couple also has impeccable taste in music so I instantly became intrigued.
I started asking around and soon realized this was one hot ticket and that I needed to be IN. They informed me that the show was sold out so I did what any savvy fucker would do and looked up tickets on Craigslist from my iPhone. I saw a shiesty hipster was selling two tickets for $60 bones (3x face value) and emailed that Van’s wearing, flip-billed fucker to see what the bizness was on the tix. He emailed me back within 5 minutes and was already at Summerfest just waiting for The Don to come pick up tickets.
My friends and I stopped by the ATM and walked out the door and the cut-off short sporting hipsteroni was posted there looking stupid and I knew this was my guy. I handed him my toilet paper ($), grabbed my tickets, kicked him in the shin, and walked back to the Summerfest to party with the plunder.
Fast forward 5 hours, 15 tall boys, and 4 capiranhas later and I was standing at the door of the Drunken Unicorn with a pocket full of funky pre-rolled joints and a smile on my drunken face. We went inside the hotbox of a music club and the room was as crowded as Mormon household. Little did I know that I was about to be blown away by fantasmic awesomeness.
BAM! They started ripping, everyone was sipping, and the whole room started tripping! The lead singer Michael Angelakos was raging vocals and the keyboard, while the rest of the band pumped an absurd amount of energy into the room. I was jumping up and down within thirty seconds (the cool, collected, even-keeled kind of jumping) and stepping on hipster toes like it was my job. I couldn’t believe how sharp the eighties-sounding electronic music blended in perfectly with Angelakos high-pitched, Prince-esque falsetto vocals. They had the entire room captivated and in between songs, I looked around the room and made eye contact with all my peoples and they were nodding their heads like “Told you so, you cocky fucker.” Passion Pit was making it look easy and I instantly became a fist-pumping proponent of their steez.
Passion Pit’s new album, Manners, is going to sell a hell a lot of albums and it literally has been the only album that has been played in my Lambo since the show on Saturday. Although some songs can be a tad on the cheesy side, you can’t help but love them. “Little Secrets” has the addictiveness of “Kids” by MGMT and is sure to be a hit in the coming months. “The Reeling” is a bodacious rager that infuses serious beats and trancelike lyrics that get you hooked like CRACK. “Swimming in the Flood” is a melodic wonder that really gets that good feeling going. I usually don’t give this much props to a band but every song on Manners is smile jerker and it’s definitely worth the $8 dollares on iTunes.
After the show, the kind gents at the Drunken Unicorn opened the floodgates into MJQ where the party continued. I proceeded to get my steez on to “Shorty Swing My Way” mixed with “I’m on a Boat” (brilliance) in MJQ where the party stayed out of control. I was smoking a fatty while watching b-boys do their thing when my friend tapped me and motioned behind us, where all the members of Passion Pit were raging. I turned and gave them props and offered them some tokage of appreciation. They obliged, which reconfirmed my suspicion that they were most certainly a yachty group of cats. I then proceeded to smoke j’s with most of the dudes from the band while I continued to fall deeper into the perils of a Saturday night and completely forgetting about my sister who was waiting outside for an hour.
All in all, I had a radical Saturday and found one of my new favorite bands that is most certainly on a boat. Passion Pit is for the fucking win and I highly recommend these hipsters to anyone that likes good music.