The Music of Mustache Make-Outs

Ever since Daan van den Bergh pooped out a glittery faberge egg for me on Twitter, then promoted me to the position of his official sound editor for his blog, I have been skipping like a leprechaun everywhere I go. I am mostly just impressed with him and his wife’s clay molding skills. Oh, and somehow he also talked me into being a make-out whore. I’ll let him explain…

It’s me, Daan.

Obviously it is the month for Movember. To those of you, who don’t know what that is, I am assuming that you are a newcomer and/or are living under a rock.  Read this post. Enlighten yourself.

Now, I want to tell you a story. I’m going to ask you to close your eyes while I tell the story. No, wait. I’m not actually talking. Just read it.

This is a story about an upper-lip enjoying a regular shave, a daily smooth-cut with sometimes a day or two in between. Eleven months pass by as suddenly November races up. The world gets darker each day as a carpet of thick, pointy hair consumes the upper-lip. Can you see it? It’s entangled in wire, caught unwillingly, all alone in the darkness. Can you? I want you to picture that upper-lip.

Now imagine that upper-lip is you.

So, I asked myself: what can I do to make these upper lips feel less lonely? What do you do when a guy feels bad? According to pop psychology, you either take him to a strip club or get him a hooker. I can’t help all of them and although prostitution is legal in my awesome country, it isn’t in the rest of the world. So I needed to come up with an alternative.

That’s why I got the Sound Editor of I Fkkn Rokk Studios (which happens to be the owner of this blog – happy coincidence!) to make-out with the 10 most ridiculous mustaches and share with us what it sounded like!

You’re welcome. Back to you, Becca.

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Let’s get this over with to tongue wrestling (all photo credits go to the Ranker.com link above).

Instead of running my fingers through this classy gent’s hair as we played tonsil hockey, I opted to stretch out his curly mustached locks and release them to snap back into their naturally spiraled shape. Kind of like a pug’s tail.

*strrrrrr-bbroingg*

Here we have a clever mustache wearer. He let me use his handle bars as a tool to let him know when I needed a breather. I hung my purse on one side too, you know, so I could use my hands to grope all that complimenting chest hair.

*Crank crank crank*

To hell with making out with this guy, I am using his mustache as a new track for my toy race cars. Who wants to go? Any takers? It worked out well until the wheels kept getting tangled in his bridge mane. The experience also gave a whole new meaning to the term “mustache ride”.

*Vroom vrrrrrrrooooom*

I should have known that making out with this dude was a rash waiting to happen. The things I do for my fellow bloggers. So scarring… in more ways than one.

*scratchity scratch scratch*

Okay, that’s it. This is where I draw the line Daan. Now I am making out with the back of guys’ heads?  All you are getting out of me on this one is a sprint in the opposite direction. Your skull can stare into my soul all it wants buddy, but I am not eating your creepy mulletstache.

*pit pat pit pat pit pat*

The rest of your outrageously decorated upper lips are just going to have to deal with the prison you are in until the end of November. Luckily for you, there isn’t much time left. Come December first you will have served your time in the ‘stachetentiary, and I will no longer be subjected to these daunting tasks. Now, excuse me while I go apply ointment to my chaffed face and swear off kissing for ever.

Before you go, be sure to go read the Final Movember Recap on Le Clown’s page. Someone you know may have written it. My Jackstache is also revealed there – the winning mustache from my poll last week.

Related articles

• 21 Mustaches In Sports You Should Emulate This Movember (buzzfeed.com)
• A Movember to Remember (digitaloperative.com)
• See Mr. Clean, The Michelin Man And Other Brand Icons’ Awkward Movember Mustaches (ibtimes.com)