The Mustache

We have a dangerous and damaging epidemic on our hands amongst the young adult males of our generation. It is as vile and viral as they come. And yet, no one seems to be as concerned about it as I am. What is this mystery plague infecting our men, you ask? Athlete's foot? Giardia? Leprosy? No. Worse:

MUSTACHES.

Dirty, nasty, stringly, fluffy, crumby, mustaches. "Moustaches." Cookie dusters. Soup strainers. Misplaced eyebrows. Stalker 'staches. Face fungus.

For some reason, an increasing number of potentially attractive men feel that mustaches are an appropriate outlet for expressing their manly capabilities to grow facial hair. They are sorely mistaken.

Mustaches make me want to hurl. If you are not Burt Reynolds, a police officer, or over the age of 55, mustaches should be strictly prohibited. I am not typically a hater of facial hair. I like me some scruff every now and then, but mustaches just must go.

For example: Take an extremely good looking man. Add the following:


A goatee? Fine.




Sideburns? Excellent.

Manly scruffiness? Superb.

But a mustache?



Woof.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

You have made a beautiful man into an atrocity. Adding a weird patch of lip hair to a handsome face (or ANY face, for that matter) is a recipe for disaster. Please men, be responsible. Grow some sideburns. Forget to shave for a couple days. But I beg of you.... do not, under any circumstance, grow a mustache.

Mustaches must go.