The first of hopefully many slideshows recapping the life and times...of mustache:
Sound Required.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Quoth the Mustache
Edgar Allen Poe Simon K----k Presents: "The Mustache"
Once upon a midday dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
As many a quaint and fermented libation the traders did pour,
While I sat there, cleanly shaven, suddenly there came complaining,
As though someone were campaigning, campaigning for a facial chore.
" 'Tis a silly bet," I muttered, "growing lip hair I abhor;
Sheer folly, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak November,
And the wager's growing members wrought their cash in mounds galore.
Instantly I sought advice - seems each man has his own price -
So it was then I grew enticed, enticed to be a mustache whore.
For a sum of thousand-threefold, I would commence a mustache war
Lasting months, in total four.
Thus the facial hair did fester, making me look a molester
And while this reality did pester, I could not turn back anymore
So that now, to still the bleating of my dame, I stood repeating
"'Tis but a mustache fleeting for a bet I must explore
Will sprout a mustache fleeting for a bet I must explore
This it is, and nothing more,"
So with the girlfriend freshly bribed, 'twas to the mustache I subscribed
Teammates' laughter barely described - Jo-Al, Dan, Stan, and Trevor -
Much harassed, and not undaunted, facial hair my life has haunted
End in sight is all I wanted - these whiskers I do deplore
Will this 'stache go on forever? Tell me truly, I implore!
Quoth the mustache, "Evermore."
---
This is what happens to me when there is a writer's strike and I have nothing to rot my brain properly.
Poe's "The Raven"
Once upon a midday dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
As many a quaint and fermented libation the traders did pour,
While I sat there, cleanly shaven, suddenly there came complaining,
As though someone were campaigning, campaigning for a facial chore.
" 'Tis a silly bet," I muttered, "growing lip hair I abhor;
Sheer folly, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak November,
And the wager's growing members wrought their cash in mounds galore.
Instantly I sought advice - seems each man has his own price -
So it was then I grew enticed, enticed to be a mustache whore.
For a sum of thousand-threefold, I would commence a mustache war
Lasting months, in total four.
Thus the facial hair did fester, making me look a molester
And while this reality did pester, I could not turn back anymore
So that now, to still the bleating of my dame, I stood repeating
"'Tis but a mustache fleeting for a bet I must explore
Will sprout a mustache fleeting for a bet I must explore
This it is, and nothing more,"
So with the girlfriend freshly bribed, 'twas to the mustache I subscribed
Teammates' laughter barely described - Jo-Al, Dan, Stan, and Trevor -
Much harassed, and not undaunted, facial hair my life has haunted
End in sight is all I wanted - these whiskers I do deplore
Will this 'stache go on forever? Tell me truly, I implore!
Quoth the mustache, "Evermore."
---
This is what happens to me when there is a writer's strike and I have nothing to rot my brain properly.
Poe's "The Raven"
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Mustache FAQ
Mustache FAQ -- To Be Updated Semi-Regularly:
Q: What's the deal with that gap where there clearly should be 'stache?
A: In what leading medical scientists are calling a case of "magic," I appear to lack the capacity to grow hair in what should be the heart of my mustache. This is most likely because the gap serves as a demilitarized zone to keep apart the warring factions that are the opposing sides of my mustache. Alternatively, my 'stache may simply be proving that I am, in fact, so Jewish that I can't even begin to grow the Hitler portion of a mustache.
Q: Can't you afford a new piece of paper every day with $3,000?
A: My photographer insists on using the same piece of paper repeatedly. I am silently protesting this, but I am at the mercy of his mighty camera. Also, should I go against his wishes, he has 30 or so siblings ready to brutalize me on a moment's notice. So I'd like to avoid that if at all possible.
Q: What does Lisa think of the monstrosity on your face?
A: They say that the key to any successful relationship is bribery so, as such, Lisa will be paid a consultant's fee of $1,000 should I win the bet. She has also graciously agreed to bail me out of jail if I'm mistaken for a pedophile somewhere along the way.
Q: You call that a mustache? My mother grows more hair on her upper lip than you.
A: This bet came on the heels of me shaving my beard...people seem to have assumed that my facial hair growing abilities are evenly distributed across my face. As it happens, my mustache looks like that of a kid who doesn't know better than to shave. This inside information was a key advantage throughout the bet negotiation process.
Q: Do your co-workers really dislike you?
A: Who knows. But for $3000, it's quite hard to care. Let's just say this is an arrangement where all parties benefit.
Q: $3000!? Will your co-workers pay me to grow a handsome stache like yours?
A: Absolutely not. However, should you choose to grow one in solidarity with my quest for mustachy glory, I would not oppose. Especially if you're a woman.
Q: Is your boss OK with you looking like a child molester at work?
A: My boss is a leading contributor to the "Consortium of 'Stache Cash." He matched the highest bidder involved in the bet and is, coincidentally, the person most amused by the mustache proceedings thus far.
Q: What's the deal with that gap where there clearly should be 'stache?
A: In what leading medical scientists are calling a case of "magic," I appear to lack the capacity to grow hair in what should be the heart of my mustache. This is most likely because the gap serves as a demilitarized zone to keep apart the warring factions that are the opposing sides of my mustache. Alternatively, my 'stache may simply be proving that I am, in fact, so Jewish that I can't even begin to grow the Hitler portion of a mustache.
Q: Can't you afford a new piece of paper every day with $3,000?
A: My photographer insists on using the same piece of paper repeatedly. I am silently protesting this, but I am at the mercy of his mighty camera. Also, should I go against his wishes, he has 30 or so siblings ready to brutalize me on a moment's notice. So I'd like to avoid that if at all possible.
Q: What does Lisa think of the monstrosity on your face?
A: They say that the key to any successful relationship is bribery so, as such, Lisa will be paid a consultant's fee of $1,000 should I win the bet. She has also graciously agreed to bail me out of jail if I'm mistaken for a pedophile somewhere along the way.
Q: You call that a mustache? My mother grows more hair on her upper lip than you.
A: This bet came on the heels of me shaving my beard...people seem to have assumed that my facial hair growing abilities are evenly distributed across my face. As it happens, my mustache looks like that of a kid who doesn't know better than to shave. This inside information was a key advantage throughout the bet negotiation process.
Q: Do your co-workers really dislike you?
A: Who knows. But for $3000, it's quite hard to care. Let's just say this is an arrangement where all parties benefit.
Q: $3000!? Will your co-workers pay me to grow a handsome stache like yours?
A: Absolutely not. However, should you choose to grow one in solidarity with my quest for mustachy glory, I would not oppose. Especially if you're a woman.
Q: Is your boss OK with you looking like a child molester at work?
A: My boss is a leading contributor to the "Consortium of 'Stache Cash." He matched the highest bidder involved in the bet and is, coincidentally, the person most amused by the mustache proceedings thus far.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Frame by Frame
To those who simply want to see a quick and dirty (emphasis on dirty) progression of the mustache, behold my mighty slideshows of mustachedom. They simultaneously cycle through the zoomed in and out versions of my glorious facial growth.
Commence Mustachification!
There comes a time in every man's life when he decides it appropriate to grow the most hideous form of facial hair possible - the mustache. For most, that time is fatherhood; for me, that time is now. I have agreed to participate in a bet of epic proportions, and the terms of said bet will make a mustachioed man out of me.
And what are the terms of this deal? Let's lay them out:
1. I, Ed K-----k, began growing a mustache on November 8th, 2007.
2. I must grow this mustache until February 29th, 2008 WITHOUT trimming.
3. I must be clean-shaven (minus the mustache) during this period.
4. Upon completion of this bet on February 29th, I will be paid $3000 by a consortium of coworkers.
5. I reserve the right, following our company Christmas party (December 15th) to abandon this bet without penalty. Should I abandon the bet prior to the Christmas party, I must wear a dress to the party.
And there you have it. Them's the rules, this here's the chronicles. Enjoy the photo progression, and please throw some questions/comments my way. I'll be double logging this event for the ages on both Facebook and blogger (for the facebookally challenged).
Fear not; just because I will have a dirty mustache does not in any way make me a pedophile, cop, cowboy, or porn star. Nor does it make me a member of the Village People - It will simply taint my otherwise beautiful face. Every man has his price, and I've decided that $3,000 is about the amount I'm comfortable looking like a sexual predator for.
Commence mustachification!
And what are the terms of this deal? Let's lay them out:
1. I, Ed K-----k, began growing a mustache on November 8th, 2007.
2. I must grow this mustache until February 29th, 2008 WITHOUT trimming.
3. I must be clean-shaven (minus the mustache) during this period.
4. Upon completion of this bet on February 29th, I will be paid $3000 by a consortium of coworkers.
5. I reserve the right, following our company Christmas party (December 15th) to abandon this bet without penalty. Should I abandon the bet prior to the Christmas party, I must wear a dress to the party.
And there you have it. Them's the rules, this here's the chronicles. Enjoy the photo progression, and please throw some questions/comments my way. I'll be double logging this event for the ages on both Facebook and blogger (for the facebookally challenged).
Fear not; just because I will have a dirty mustache does not in any way make me a pedophile, cop, cowboy, or porn star. Nor does it make me a member of the Village People - It will simply taint my otherwise beautiful face. Every man has his price, and I've decided that $3,000 is about the amount I'm comfortable looking like a sexual predator for.
Commence mustachification!
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