This is a blog I had planned out a month or so ago.  I've found that I've been increasingly uninspired this past month and have put a ton of things on the back-burner, including this blog.  So I won't include the normal introductory bullshit and I'll get straight to the point.

I like mustaches.

Not even like.  I love 'em.

I don't know why.  Whenever I have one, I get a lot less action from Lydia, and a lot of people take me even less seriously.  Plus, I get ketchup and stuff in it, and drinking anything just becomes plain silly.

But there's just something about it that wins me over.  It's that aura of confidence I feel when I look into the mirror.  It's the smile on someone's face when they see my mustache out in public and they get it.  It's the distinction that says no matter what might be socially acceptable, damnit, I've got the sophistication and class to have a mustache on my face!

You can eat all the steaks you want or stare at the flag flapping in the breeze, but having a mustache gets me more jacked up than any of that combined.  I think anyone who's ever had one probably feels the same way; like you could fight the world and win.

Lots of cool people have them too, and that's always important.

The crazy thing though is that most guys…have never had one.  Sure they've had goatees or beards or whatever, and they had a mustache when they first started growing facial hair, but most people I know have never had an honest-to-god mustache on their face.  Whenever I suggest it to people, most take a deep gulp and apprehensively confess "I don't know man, I've uh, I've never had just a mustache before."

Well, I'm hoping that I can change that.  Maybe I can give people a little motivation.

That's why I'm declaring this coming December 14-16

'TWAS THE MUSTACHE BEFORE CHRISTMAS WEEKEND

That's right!

I'm calling on any male that reads this to cast aside any concerns they've had before aside, and for this one weekend to proudly declare "You know what?  I can grow hair on my upper lip-and it looks pretty fucking good there!"

Are you with me?

Not yet, huh?  That's what I figured.

That's why I've made sure to sweeten the pot.

I want anyone sporting a mustache at all that weekend to email a picture of it at christmasmustache@hotmail.com.  I don't care if it's big and bushy or barely there-send me a picture.  The best/my favorite mustache is going to win a mustache grand prize pack!

Want to know what all comes in this awesome package?

An 8-inch comb with long handle,

So you can make sure your mustache is always straight.

$5 bucks.

You just won a contest, go get yourself something special, my treat.

Aviator sunglasses.

If you have to ask why, then you have no business growing a mustache in the first place.

Bod-Man spray.

Because even your 'stache will lure girls in like a fucking tractor beam, you still need to smell good.  Nothing goes with a mustache like some Bod-Man spray.  After all, you want a sophisticated scent to go with your sophisticated look, right?

Trojan Condoms.  Ultra-ribbed and Lubricated. A 36-condom economy pack.  Box never opened.

For all that mad pussy you'll be getting the whole weekend.

A $15 gift certificate to Fire Mountain.

Also good at any Ryan's.  It'll let that special girl you've just come inside know you're classy without you having to break out that Red Lobster money.  Plus, their buffet has a good amount of food that won't stick in your mustache.

All this comes in a collector's edition "Scarface" box.

The film "Scarface" is not included, but that red satiny shit in the box looks real nice.  You could probably reuse it again if you take out the Al Pacino shit.

All this could be yours for free-all you have to do is not shave your upper lip.  This contest is open to anyone.  If you don't live in the area, I'll mail it to you.  You deserve that kind of VIP treatment, superstar.

To make it fair, I've disqualified myself from competition.  My facial hair-growing abilities are thrice that on a mortal man, plus I don't fuck wit rubbers anyway.

To make it even more fair, if you've already got just a mustache, you're disqualified as well.  If you've got a beard or goatee and shave the rest of it off, that's fine.  But anyone just rocking a plain 'stache doesn't get to enter.  We already know the thrill guys, let's let some of the new recruits get a chance.  So that's right Sam Elliot, head out to pasture, because you won't be welcome.

Don't reanimate yourself just yet, Richard Pryor-your pictures won't be counted.

Don't even think about it Wilford Brimley.  Your upper lip is only good for one thing, and that's spewing out the relentless bullshit you peddle on my TV.  Why don't you go suck a diabetes-laden dick, Brimley?

And last, but certainly not least, don't you even think about entering, ROH timekeeper guy!

Now who wins the contest, you braggadocious son of a bitch?  You can't beat me!  Ask me to take down a goddamned wrestling ring again; you'll be lucky if I don't put a damn ring around your mustachioed neck instead!  Got it?

Anyways, that's the contest!  I know it only leaves a couple of weeks, but I'm not going to be that picky, I promise! You've still got plenty of time to grow something halfway decent, and then you'll still be able to shave it off when Aunt Doris comes in for Christmas. I just want to see some people with mustaches!  Tell everyone you know about this, you'll feel a lot cooler if everyone you know has a mustache as well.  I've got bigger mustache plans to announce come January, so this can be just the beginning!

Need some ideas for a mustache?  Check this link out:  Mustache stuff!