It’s officially been 10 days of moustache growing, and, I must say, progress is better than expected. In my previous futile attempts to grow some combination of facial hair, I’d learned that, loosely speaking, I don’t have any. It had always been thin, patchy, and fair, making it all generally invisible. So, while it’s no Sam Elliott, I’m pretty proud of how it’s coming along. I think if it continues at this rate, I’ll have a proper dickduster in a matter of weeks. My hope is that, by the end of the month, I’ll be able to wax the ends a little and get some nice Pringles Guy points. If not, though, I’ll settle for the Steinbeck (subtle, but so well executed):
I’ve been told that growing a moustache long enough for wax is a lot of work, but the guy who said so didn’t even have a moustache, so what does he know? Nothing, that’s what. Speaking of which, I bet you’re all wondering what it’s like to have a moustache, i.e., if all the rumors about secret meetings and deferential treatment are true. I’m here to tell you: not yet. So far, none of my fellow moustachioed men have invited me to a masonic meeting, and I haven’t gotten a free “coffee” at Starbucks (“coffee” being moustache-lingo for a small latte, no sugar). I did, however, have an easier time opening a jar of pickles last week, so I imagine the benefits only come with time. I am only a week and a half into the thing, so maybe I don’t qualify just yet.
To donate to my Mo’vember campaign, a fund raiser for the Prostate Cancer Foundation, visit http://us.movember.com/donate/donate-search.php, and enter my registration number:1356986.