Becoming the Mustache

So here it is. The moment I have been hyping up. I decided that I was going to give myself a feminine beard once I was stupid enough to actually do it. I did it. Here's my beard at the last moment's of its terribly short life:

It was a man's beard. Grown freely and unkempt. Good enough for a lumberjack, good enough for me. But that wasn't enough. Good enough is never enough. I made fun of feminine beards previously and I was determined to prove my point and give myself one. This is investigative journalism at its finest. Close those legs Katie Couric. You aren't quite ready for the big leagues.

Shavers remorse sets in pretty quickly.

So I started shaving the damn thing. Hair was falling everywhere and getting all over my shirt...

...and everywhere else.

I was getting a little gay with myself at times...
...and others were getting gay with me.
And then came thoughts of suicide.

I gotta give it to all you feminine bearders out there. It's friggin' hard to do. I could never get it thin enough but it couldn't be any gayer. It was gay as gay could be and just to prove it I started walking around with this New Jersey cultural standard on my face.

Even though its not exactly what I would have wanted out of my feminine beard, it's pretty close. It screams douchebag who spent 30 minutes in the bathroom just to come up with this complete failure. Well it took my parents nine months to come up with me so I guess I'm up.

Just when everyone thought things couldn't get any more ridiculous I began reciting out of the Fantasy & Science Fiction magazine. Just look at that feminine beard.

And then I just said, "Fuck it. I'm getting a mustache." I changed out of my hairy Hard Rock Cafe shirt and into the free Speed Racer shirt I got at the GTA release line. It was about thirty sizes too small but who cared? I had a mustache. That shirt could not handle me.

Then CHR took this gem of a photo. I look like a depressed aging cop trying to hang out with my retarded teenage son. Anyways, we're the same age. The mustache gives me some years and that Speed Racer shirt is not doing me any sexual favors. I think putting on that shirt subtracted about 30 points from my sexual prowess skill points. FUCK!

This apartments not big enough for two mustaches. One of us will die.


And last but definately not least: That asshole Yuri compared me to some mouth breather in his last post but when I recreated the photo he was stunningly accurate. I'm sorry for calling you an asshole, Yuri. You're right.