It seems that lately the mustache is making a comeback. I think this, in large, is due to the popularity of ridiculous looking fashion and celebrities wanting to look like homeless people. Men arrogantly think that just anyone can grow a mustache. That is far from the truth. I have only seen a handful of mustaches that I would classify as "passable" in my life time.
The bottom line is that people don't fear the mustache as they should. The mustache is not a thing to be trifled with. The reactions that is causes are never mild. You are either that serial killer trying to make a good impression, or you are Magnum P.I. and there is no in between. I've seen mustaches ruin a look (I'm talking to you Brad Pitt), cause people to cringe, break up relationships, and take over whole countries. Oh, did you think that it was just coincidence that Hitler and Stalin had lip fairies.
Of coarse THE mustache belongs to Tom Selleck. I have never in my life encountered a mustache that is more groomed, more perfect, or more powerful. I realized this while I was watching the 1984 technological thriller "Runaway". This movie is bad. How bad is it? Gene Simmons (from Kiss) is the super smart super villain. But I was compelled to continue to watch for the same reason Magnum P.I. was a sex symbol. The same reason "Richard" on friends was so cool. For the same reason Mr. Baseball was awesome. And the reason movies like 3 Men and a Baby, Her Alibi, and Quigley Down Under were watchable.
My advice to you... don't grow a mustache. Leave that to Tom.
Magnum is here to see you...
Continued: "Nacho" Not Your Day
It has been almost two years... two full years. I blogged almost two years ago about a girl named Laura who works at the Taco Bell/KFC in Yorkville who NEVER NEVER NEVER got my order right. Laura is gone (I can only assume that Muppet tanned herself to death) but the tradition of giving me the shaft lives on.
Here we are two years later. I have yet to recieve a correct order from this Taco Bell.
Fantastic Fecal Medical Miricles
The secretary were I work has had a disease for the last year called Clostridium Difficile or "C. diff" for short. It is not a comfortable thing to live with because it is basically chronic tummy aches with perpetual diarrhea. Most strains can be cured with ten days of antibiotics. Worst case scenario, the antibiotics kill off all the bad bacteria in your intestines... but also the good bacteria that helps your body process your food. Now you are screwed.
In order to put the "good bacteria" back into your body you need a transplant... not of organs or blood, but of fecal matter... poop. That's right. You have to have a "healthy donor" take a crap in a bag at the hospital then they make you shove it up your nose, eat it, or well... forcefully put it were it belongs.
I believe the obvious question is "Who pioneered this modern miracle drug?" I truthfully don't know, but I imagine it was awkward the first time this was tried.
"Well sir, we can't seem to cure your diarrhea, but with all this technology at our disposal we think the best thing to do is to shove crap up your nose and hope for the best."
"That is disgusting!"
"Don't worry, it won't be YOUR fecal matter... Bob the intern here has volunteered to help out. Apparently, Bob has good solid bowel movements. Plus, he was in a fraternity and has excellent experience at pooping in a bag. At first, we considered asking that B#$%# in Pediatrics that won't go out with me to do it, because she things that her crap doesn't stink. However, she seems to think this procedure is grasping at straws. But we'll show her, won't we Mr. Johnson?"
Wii are Watching You
My wife and I were really excited by the new Wii Fit we received for Christmas. Our Wii has been the bridge in our marriage between the "Gamer" and his bride. So I immediately set it up, we loaded our Mii's and created our Fit profiles. We weighed in, set a goal, and then left for three days to visit my family.
When we returned we realized what Wii had done and what we had unleashed. The following is an actual conversation between myself and my Wii Trainer.
Wii: Hello Lucas. I haven't seen you in 3 days. You should really make working out a regular habit.
Lucas: Presses "A" button in shame
Wii: Well, now that it is the new year are you back because you have a resolution? Are you ready to get serious?
Lucas: Presses "A" button annoyed
Wii: Please step on the balancing board and let's mark your progress. Oh, it says here you have gained two pounds. Please select the reason for this weight gain:
Not enough exercise Lack of commitment
I ate too much I'm Lazy
I'm constipated I'm not eating healthy
I broke my promise to the Wii trainer
Lucas: Presses "A" button without dignity
Wii: Oh, I see. Well you are going to have to try harder to meet your goal. Instead of playing balance games, why don't we do more aerobic exercises, this will burn more of your fat.
Lucas: Presses "A" button slightly unnerved
Wii: You know if you did these on a regular basis you would improve.
Your balance needs improvement.
Fight the fat!
Not bad, but maybe if you weren't gay you could do a proper jack knife.
I saw you eating that McDonalds in your office. That is going to cost you Fit Coins.
Please choose the reason you are worthless, fat and lazy.
Maybe you should buy our new game Wii -eating disorders.
Wii are everywhere.
Lucas: Presses "A" button in quiet desperation
I tell you, it has gotten to the point that I choose what and where I eat based on if I think the Wii is going to give my crap about it. By connecting it to the Internet, I have unleashed it. I buy junkfood in cash so there is no electronic fingerprint the Wii can trace. I work hard all day and have to come home to the TV turning itself on and the Wii trainer with his smug little pony tail saying...
The Wii has ended this blog post.