What was I thinking this morning as I was shaving? Boredom? Over-confidence? Was I trying to be funny? Tough? Ironic? Whatever the motivation, I decided to leave the mustache. Of course, I never leave the mustache. At least not longer than a few minutes (any guy who says he doesn't play a little game of "what if I was an undercover cop?" in the mirror now and again is probably lying.) At any rate, this morning I must've got carried away with delusions of drug busts because a few hours later I still had the mustache and was feeling frighteningly okay about it. Not to mention a bit creepy. Little did I know, the day was about to get a lot creepier.
So, I'm on gmail and my brother Dave [that's right the one that lives in Philadelphia, 2,150 miles away] sends me an email. All it says is "wore this bad boy this morning" and—you guessed it—there is a picture of him with the sickest mustache I've ever seen. (see below)
I tell you, it is just too weird. Neither Dave nor I are the mustache type, nor can I recall a time when either of us actually decided to wear one out of the house (or even the bathroom)... but without any planning we do it on the same day? That is too creepy... check this out:


pedoslayer said...

but which one would you guess was up all night chatting with little girlies online? i think the answer is obvious.

Rupeshow said...

next time you shave you should shave a lower lip mustache. i've never seen that before.

Kos said...

too weird. hope it's not a sign.