You know what?
I’m sick of hipsters loving mustaches ironically. Every damn bar I go to there’s a guy in there in vintage jeans and a blazer with fucking band patches all over it, and sure enough right there on his dick of a head is a Jack White half-stache. There he stands, doling out ironic swaggers while pointing repeatedly at his lip-hat, and ruining manhood for everybody.
I mean, I see where you’re coming from here, and I readily admit that the ’70s era Burt Reynolds model is ridiculous. It’s symbolic of everything wrong with that sort of mentality, and it doesn’t help that the only people still sporting it honestly are cops and hillbillies. But that doesn’t mean this whole face genre is irrelevant. I personally enjoy the turn of the century villain mustache. The simple pleasure of twisting it idly in thought cannot be matched by the joy you get out of wearing your “mustache rides 5 cents” shirt to artfag venues.
I have a mustache, god damn it. And it is important that you know it is not ironic. I get a lot of knowing looks from dickheads with Vote For Pedro shirts, and I want to make it clear:
See this? I genuinely mean this mustache. My face is not fucking around.
My mustache is the brass knuckles of my personality.
Yes, I have a beard also, but that’s just so my mustache has something to fuck if it gets lonely.
Step to me with your half-hearted mouth-mascara, son, and you’ll wake up tied to some train tracks. And don’t expect any Dudley Do-Right to come a’rushing to your damsel-in-distress screams this time. You see, I’ve sent him over a waterfall in a barrel so there’s no way he can-
Sonofabitch. Is that…?
That is him! God damn it! How is he so good at opening barrels?! Is there a fucking barrel crafting course at Mountie Academy?
This is bullshit. You still suck.