Tomorrow's the last day of Movember.
And I couldn't be happier.
No offense to police officers and porn stars, but I'm not a fan of this mustache thing.
One reason – my wannabe Wendel Clark handlebar has become a lip-rake. Food gets caught in it and I find myself constantly making sure there's no grub left behind. And that can get a little embarrassing. The guy sitting across from me in the Village food court the other day was definitely thinking, “Why is he licking his lips and looking over at me?”
Another reason why I'm not stoked about the 'stache – it's getting frosty outside. When I wear a black wool hat, it looks like I'm ready to knock over a Needs. I'm not a fan of the look, although I do feel like John Travolta in “The Taking of Pelham 123.” My wife assures me I'm no Travolta, 'stache or no 'stache.
And yet another reason why this facial hair has to become history – it's driving me half-cracked. The thing gets itchy right under the nostrils and, when you scratch it, people think you're doing something else. To quote Jerry Seinfeld, “It's NOT a pick!
So, anyway, I'm all for raising funds and awareness for prostate cancer, but this mo has to go.
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