The fat asshole with a mustache

Having a mustache is pretty fucking cool.

When you drink beer, the liquid harbors itself to your hair and you can suck it up later. Or some hot bitch can suck it off for you. More likely the former.

When you sneeze, the boogers crust it all up and you can pretend that you don't know it's there. But it's there and you know it. Just look at all the polite people sitting on their hands and staring not saying a damn thing because they're afraid of what the booger 'stacheman might do.

Even considering all this damn awesomeness, the 'stache has its downsides (and I'm not talking the awesome fangs that hug the corners of my mouth).

The mustache is an instant identifier.

For instance, at work I used to take comfort in the fact that I could be a complete asshole to customers knowing that I'm just a generic looking fat white asshole. Sure, they could identify me by my name badge but there are a bunch of Vladmirs where I work and they're all generic looking, fat, white assholes.

Today some old geriatric granny cane walker got all pissed off at me for some stupid reason (I don't know, I wasn't listening to her) and she went to tell a manager how unhelpful I was. I completely forgot that I was no longer in stealth. The 'stache is in full bloom and glorious as it is, I'm now known as "mustache" at work. Alls some old haggard non-working vagina has to do is say, "The fat asshole with a mustache kept sneezing on me even after I asked him to stop." Instantly the boss knows who they're talking about.

Luckily, I just don't give a shit. And why should I?

I'm the one with a motherfucking mustache.