Friday, November 30, 2007
Magnum P.I., the mustachioed, Ferrari 308 GTS-driving private dick...now on your mobile phone!
http://kotaku.com/gaming/mobile-gaming/magnum-pi-wowing-the-ladies-on-your-phone-326593.php
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Feelin' Bushy
As we were stretching out our mustache this AM, we noticed, "Hey, this thing is starting to shape up!"
Hairs fall over the top lip.
Skin barely visible under the prodigious growth that has accumulated.
Confidence of our once-weak nose bib burgeoning, preparing to be judged, unawares of the consequences of its existence.
Go boldly young one!
M4KDC
Hairs fall over the top lip.
Skin barely visible under the prodigious growth that has accumulated.
Confidence of our once-weak nose bib burgeoning, preparing to be judged, unawares of the consequences of its existence.
Go boldly young one!
M4KDC
Monday, November 26, 2007
Turkey 'Stache with a Side of Yams
To all you motherstaches who sent one in, your Thanksgiving pics are now up on flickr...go to m4kdc.net, go to the gallery and then click on the shaving day pics...the link will take you to flickr where you can view all the pics for each grower...let your former freinds/family/contributors know...
Big ups to 'Stache Pete for his hanging lock, a la Prince...we're sure that was what you were going for.
Word to your 'Stache,
M4KDC
Big ups to 'Stache Pete for his hanging lock, a la Prince...we're sure that was what you were going for.
Word to your 'Stache,
M4KDC
A good website and a great article.
Everyone should see this. Also, just search Mustache on this site and you can find at least a half dozen other articles on the subject.
http://www.thephatphree.com/features.asp?StoryID=2965&SectionID=11
http://www.thephatphree.com/features.asp?StoryID=2965&SectionID=11
Stache's Log - Day 5
To His Royal Stache-ness,
I have mounted an army in your name and in the name of the great mustache Gods (Ron Jeremy, Frank Zappa, Salvador Dali, Burt Reynolds, Tom Selleck, any State Trooper), shall they forever reign. Albeit but short and composed of few whiskers now, it is the start of a great army my leige. This upper lip shall be our training ground. We shall announce our station in life; to woo women and carefully catch and freeze winter snot; with a loud and boisterous "Am I Manly Now?"
His Royal Stache-ness' Whisker in Charge,
The First Hair
Progress seems slow and labored. The landscape though is changing and changing not so drastically, one nano-meter per day. Soon there will be a forest of whiskers at attention ready to serve His Royal Stache-ness with their ability to scare weak women and attract the strong ones. It is the way of Darwin. Manly Mustaches mean Manly Phalluses. For now I bid you adieu. And happy stache growing.
His Royal Stache-ness' Whisker in Charge,
The First Hair
I have mounted an army in your name and in the name of the great mustache Gods (Ron Jeremy, Frank Zappa, Salvador Dali, Burt Reynolds, Tom Selleck, any State Trooper), shall they forever reign. Albeit but short and composed of few whiskers now, it is the start of a great army my leige. This upper lip shall be our training ground. We shall announce our station in life; to woo women and carefully catch and freeze winter snot; with a loud and boisterous "Am I Manly Now?"
His Royal Stache-ness' Whisker in Charge,
The First Hair
Progress seems slow and labored. The landscape though is changing and changing not so drastically, one nano-meter per day. Soon there will be a forest of whiskers at attention ready to serve His Royal Stache-ness with their ability to scare weak women and attract the strong ones. It is the way of Darwin. Manly Mustaches mean Manly Phalluses. For now I bid you adieu. And happy stache growing.
His Royal Stache-ness' Whisker in Charge,
The First Hair
'Stache-phemisms
Today my 'stache was referred to, somewhat derogatorily I believe, as a "caterpillar."
Does anyone else have a good 'Stache-phemism they've heard since they jumped 'stache first into this Growing Season? Any good jibes come your way around the Turkey Table?
Does anyone else have a good 'Stache-phemism they've heard since they jumped 'stache first into this Growing Season? Any good jibes come your way around the Turkey Table?
Stache's Log - Day 1
(Think Shatner in early years)
I find myself in a strange landscape of boyish charm... it has been almost a decade since this land was barren. I remember it, barely (pun intended). I must find a place to set up camp and root... for there is a long month of hard growing season ahead of me. Like a zygote of a stache I choose this upper lip and claim it for HIs Royal Stache-ness! This looks like good fertile upper lip for me to stake my claim. Here I will grow, perhaps week at first, but then I will announce my virility with authority. I have much work to do, many follicles to stimulate. Bear with me friends. It will be a long and stubbly road.
His Royal Stache-ness' Whisker in Charge,
The First Hair
I find myself in a strange landscape of boyish charm... it has been almost a decade since this land was barren. I remember it, barely (pun intended). I must find a place to set up camp and root... for there is a long month of hard growing season ahead of me. Like a zygote of a stache I choose this upper lip and claim it for HIs Royal Stache-ness! This looks like good fertile upper lip for me to stake my claim. Here I will grow, perhaps week at first, but then I will announce my virility with authority. I have much work to do, many follicles to stimulate. Bear with me friends. It will be a long and stubbly road.
His Royal Stache-ness' Whisker in Charge,
The First Hair
Last night
Dear Diary,
Last night I heard the strangest thing as I was falling asleep. Between the capitations of my fan, $20 at Linens and Things, a whisper, rather a memory of a whisper called my name.
'Brian'
I didn't move, didn't dare move, and I listened again for the sound thinking that perhaps it had been my imagination or the creaking of my old house or even a hobo on the street.
But there it came again, the voice chopped up by the blades of my fan.
'B-b-b-r-ri-i-i-a-a-n-n'
I knew what I had heard. It was a voice, in my dark room, in the middle of the night, and i was alone and helpless.I drew back my covers, and turned on the light. My room was empty. The posters on my walls stared at me. The furniture waited.
It had become very cold in my room, like someone had opened my windows and outside was Siberia in January.
I got up, faked a stretch and did a little tour around the room while shivering, pretending to be looking for something I desperately needed at 12:30 am.Then I heard it again. From down the hall.
'Brian'
My fan sputtered.
My door was open and i could see down the hallway to the bathroom at the other end. the light was on and the door was open just a crack. As I stepped out of my room, the bathroom door creaked open a little more as if to say 'I think you are dumb enough to come in here, so come on'. The hall light didn't work.
My bare feet tread softly and cautiously towards the bathroom door. My lungs sent out a white flag of peace with every breath, trying to save themselves.
The light in the bathroom got brighter with every one of my steps.
Closer and closer, brighter and brighter until I reached out my hand and the light threatened to get so bright that I could not see. I grabbed the handle, flung open the door and a flash of light nearly knocked me off my feet.
I stepped through the door and the light cut out.
...alone, cold, scared, in the pitch bathroom.
I tried to act normal, so I reached for my toothbrush. It was gone. I opened the cabinet, but i couldn't see anything, so I tried the light switch. Once, nothing. Twice, nothing. Three times, it came on.
The cabinet was empty, except for an old, bloody razor. I spooked and closed the cabinet and the mirror appeared before my face.
Written on the mirror in blood was the word 'Bigote' and floating behind me, as delicate as mist but as frightening as clown with a chainsaw, was the spectre of a half-shaved mustache.
I screamed and turned to face my tormentor, but it was gone, vanished, like so many of my dreams.
The warmth came back to the house and the light in the hallway turned on.I went back to bed, shaken and confused.
What mustache was this haunting me? Why was it haunting me?
Only time will tell...
Brian
Donate to Mustaches 4 Kids.www.m4kdc.net
Last night I heard the strangest thing as I was falling asleep. Between the capitations of my fan, $20 at Linens and Things, a whisper, rather a memory of a whisper called my name.
'Brian'
I didn't move, didn't dare move, and I listened again for the sound thinking that perhaps it had been my imagination or the creaking of my old house or even a hobo on the street.
But there it came again, the voice chopped up by the blades of my fan.
'B-b-b-r-ri-i-i-a-a-n-n'
I knew what I had heard. It was a voice, in my dark room, in the middle of the night, and i was alone and helpless.I drew back my covers, and turned on the light. My room was empty. The posters on my walls stared at me. The furniture waited.
It had become very cold in my room, like someone had opened my windows and outside was Siberia in January.
I got up, faked a stretch and did a little tour around the room while shivering, pretending to be looking for something I desperately needed at 12:30 am.Then I heard it again. From down the hall.
'Brian'
My fan sputtered.
My door was open and i could see down the hallway to the bathroom at the other end. the light was on and the door was open just a crack. As I stepped out of my room, the bathroom door creaked open a little more as if to say 'I think you are dumb enough to come in here, so come on'. The hall light didn't work.
My bare feet tread softly and cautiously towards the bathroom door. My lungs sent out a white flag of peace with every breath, trying to save themselves.
The light in the bathroom got brighter with every one of my steps.
Closer and closer, brighter and brighter until I reached out my hand and the light threatened to get so bright that I could not see. I grabbed the handle, flung open the door and a flash of light nearly knocked me off my feet.
I stepped through the door and the light cut out.
...alone, cold, scared, in the pitch bathroom.
I tried to act normal, so I reached for my toothbrush. It was gone. I opened the cabinet, but i couldn't see anything, so I tried the light switch. Once, nothing. Twice, nothing. Three times, it came on.
The cabinet was empty, except for an old, bloody razor. I spooked and closed the cabinet and the mirror appeared before my face.
Written on the mirror in blood was the word 'Bigote' and floating behind me, as delicate as mist but as frightening as clown with a chainsaw, was the spectre of a half-shaved mustache.
I screamed and turned to face my tormentor, but it was gone, vanished, like so many of my dreams.
The warmth came back to the house and the light in the hallway turned on.I went back to bed, shaken and confused.
What mustache was this haunting me? Why was it haunting me?
Only time will tell...
Brian
Donate to Mustaches 4 Kids.www.m4kdc.net
looking at the wor ld through stash-colored glasses
week one with a stash has been a formidable challenge. from withstanding the pleading of the fairer sex to abandon the stash (namely my girlfriend, but my mom gets honorable mention), to teaching a class full of college students who snicker whenever directly addressed by their mustachioed instructor, there has been no shortage of character building moments. in transcontinental brother mustache contest news, although my younger brother charlie seems to have a questionable understanding of what "shave every week" means, the competition is hot. receiving his first mustache photo confirmed what has been reinforced to be true no less than 9,597 times throughout the course of our lives, which is that we pretty much tie in everything. looks to me like he has exactly the same stache i do. i've included in this post a video of my girlfriend's reaction to the new addition to our relationship, my stash.
The Second Annual Mustaches for Kids DC Growing Season is Upon Us!
On November 15, DC's bravest men gathered at Porter's Saloon to do the unthinkable: shave in public. At a bar. So they could grow a mustache. For Kids. They are now in Day 12 of this heroing pursuit. God bless them. Witness their stories here, first hand. Or visit our Web site: www.m4kdc.net, and while you're there, make a donation to benefit Children's National Medical Center!
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