Feb 3, 2011

What Your Facial Hair Says About You : Mustaches

What Your Facial Hair Says About You : Mustaches

Tom Selleck. Ron Jeremy. Groucho Marx. All dudes with limited career options at this point, but more importantly, all dudes with notable mustaches. Historically, the mighty ‘stache has been a calling card of masculinity, and this doesn't appear to be changing any time soon. Also, I would call attention to the popular t-shirt reading "Mustache Rides - 5 cents." I'm pretty sure this can be counted as history's first meme.
What it says about you:

The Chevron
As the proud bearer of a classic American mustache, I know how to get things done. Whatever my job is, I'm good at it, and I enjoy it. And it's probably something cool, like "race car driver" or "middle relief pitcher."

The Horseshoe

I've absolutely no dignity left to assail. I'm probably not an actual biker, but if I put on a leather jacket as well, at least no one will crowd me on the bus. In rare cases: This Tuesday I'll be fighting the Iron Sheik at the Imperial Bingo Palace on Interstate 41. Whatcha gonna do, when these 24-inch pythons run wild on you, brother!

The Toothbrush

If it's later than 1945, and I'm not appearing in a biopic about the life of Charlie Chaplin, there's something seriously wrong here, fraulein.

The Handlebar

I am more concerned with looking stylish than looking tough. I probably know other mustache guys, but I'm far too classy to point out that their shapeless tufts fall far short of my efforts.Alternatively: Hey Paizan! Whatta you want on this-a pizza?

The Pencil
I'm an artistic type, and my art tends to push boundaries. Even if that "art" is stage magic, mime, or tango instruction.

The Fu-Manchu

I might be an intergalactic villain intent on conquering the galaxy, or I might just be the creepy guy in the neighborhood who hangs out a little too close to the playground for comfort. Either way, better steer clear.

The Walrus

I'm so manly, I basically grew a second ballsack on my face. I'm pretty handy with power tools, but don't kid yourself. I could chop down a tree faster than you too. So could my horse, and my 12 to 15 kids. Who, incidentally, refer to me as "Pa."

The English

I talk with some sort of weird accent which I obviously adopted after spending a semester in some weird country. But at least I'm handy to have around; at this very moment, there's enough wax on my lip to sculpt a little candle in case of a blackout.



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