Monday, November 17, 2008

Root Beer Review

So I've had a epiphany and I think I need to make a new blog. Wouldn't it be AWESOME if I started a blog that reviews different root beers? I know right? This would be a totally original, new, unique and splendid thing. I'll have to put some thought into the logistics of it. I was thinking a black background, a bottle cap rating system, a lame little soliloquy on the right hand side, and the actual reviews with a picture and history of each brand. I'm not sure if this wonderful, unique, special, beautiful idea will take shape, but I thought I would run the idea by my faithful readers and see what they thought.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

What NOT to blog about

I realize in creating this post that I am going to potentially ostracize and offend many of my faithful readers (including my beloved spouse). I urge you, therefore, to consider two things. First, I am right and you are wrong. It's my OPINION, not scripture. Don't argue with me. Second, this is my blog and I am allowed to be hypocritical, offensive, uncouth and impolite. Deal with it.
That being said I will continue with the topic of the discourse. As you have ascertained from the title of my post, I am going to discuss a few topics I deem inappropriate for blog content. I realize that it is hypocritical and convoluted for me to blog about the things I don't like to see other people blog about. I also realize that I should follow my own advice and opt not to read certain blogs and/or posts that I deem unworthy of my time. So please don't (or please do so I can point out your stupidity) leave comments arguing with my post, I already told you I am right and you are wrong. Know also that I am not targeting or attacking any single person with this post. The only specific examples (if any) that will be used will be taken from my own family.
After that lovely intro we will proceed with the list. The first thing I would like to see less of is this:
I don't mean my child. I love my children and enjoy spending time with them. Yes, that is a giant snot bubble. I had to stop my wife from putting this on our family blog, threatening her with this very post (which I did anyway). My daughter is adorable, but nobody wants to see this. It is not cute. I have to swallow my own vomit when I look at this, and it is not nearly as bad as some things I have seen. Speaking of vomit, please don't share with the world the photos of little Billy's half digested mac and cheese. Don't post pictures of dirty diapers, we are all surrounded by more than enough fecal matter as it is. That's great if your kid is potty training. But guess what? I don't want to see a pictures of the turd or urine. These are all things that the body is excreting for a reason. They are not pleasant and not meant to be shared.
Ladies. This one is for you. I realize, especially after watching The Oprah Sex Show, that it is important for a woman to be comfortable with her vulva and accompanying hardware. Guess what? I am not comfortable with your reproductive region. People don't want to hear about your menstrual cycle, intimate details of your birthing, or anything that has to do with your nether regions. Privates is a good word. Let's keep it that way. For an example of what not to post on this subject I include the following picture. It is part of a short video that I suggest you watch by clicking on THIS LINK. I especially like the pirate blood drop.
Another one for the ladies and one that I am going to be careful with is the pregnant belly pictures. I'm not talking about pictures of your belly per say, but does it have to be bare skin? If you're pregnant it's not like many shirts are going to be baggy enough to hide your belly anyway. This is one we are guilty of doing, but we definitely did not post the pictures on the internet. I was going to post a picture of my own belly, which has grown a little over the years, but thought better of it. Above and beyond the bare skin bellies (which really aren't that bad) are the pictures where the girl is either topless covering her bosoms, or pantless with a little crack showing sitting sideways with the belly exposed, etc. Those are the ones I really deem inappropriate. I think pregnancy is a swell thing. We have to keep the human race going after all. But I think posting photographs of yourself half naked is a bit unbecoming of a chaste young lady (although the huge gross belly does make it non-sexual for the young men looking at it).
The last item about which I will complain are the anonymous comments that people make on each other's blogs. Now, we all know that when you want to say something rude to your friend on their blog you just click that little anonymous button and away go the inhibitions. I realize in saying this that I allow anonymous comments on my blog. In fact, I welcome them. I like for the ignorant wretch that has something clever to say, but is too cowardly to say it openly, to have a forum in which to post their opinions. Nobody leaves nice, friendly, uplifting comments when they are anonymous. So those of you that have rude things to say, please do. I would also like for you to check back, as those are my favorite to respond to.
Again, I do not mean to target anyone in particular in making this post. Rather, I mean to offend the blogging community as a whole in an attempt to save myself the trouble of doing it one individual at a time.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

The XXIX (I think that is 29th) Olympiad

I realize that the Olympics have been done for some time now, but I have been meaning to make a post and it's been a while. I, like many other individuals, spent many hours in front of the television watching people run and bounce around whilst I stuffed my face with cheetos and drank Kool-Aid. In making this post I do not pretend for one minute that I am an athletic person. God must have fallen asleep when it came to assigning coordination to myself and my siblings. Sorry sibs, but don't kid yourselves. I look at most of the events and realize that I could not even physically do what these people are doing. The diving, gymnastics, pole-vault etc. Attempting such actions would result in a wheel chair, food through a straw, and diapers for one such as myself. There are, however, a few events that surprised me. Now, I don't claim that I could win or excel in any of these, but I do feel that I could actually do what these people are doing. I, therefore do not consider these sports or athletic. Events such as tug of war and baseball had to be discontinued to make time for Micky Mouse events. They are as follows:
First there is shooting. This consists of "air guns" (it's really just a BB gun, but if you call it that professional BB gun shooters tend to get upset) and real guns. I like guns. This is something I could do. I don't really consider it a sport though. It's a far cry from the days of ancient Greece when a bunch of sweaty, naked men would rub oil all over themselves and run around a track and wrestle (again something I couldn't do, for more than one reason). Back to the guns. Now, I don't say that these individuals don't have skill, I just don't think it's much of an athletic event, and I could do it.
I especially enjoy the official Olympic equipment, a visor and eye-patch.
Next on the list is Rhythmic gymnastics. This isn't something that I could really do and it does require some skill, I just think it's silly. These are the girls that tried gymnastics and couldn't do it. Then they tried diving and were too scared of the water. The trampoline was next, but they got sick from all the bouncing. So finally the decided on rhythmic gymnastics. Requirements: be flexible. I crack up every time I watch this. It's a bunch of Gumbee girls in leotards sliming around with rope, hoop, ball, and ribbon.
Here is a nice montage of screwups. It's a little long and I didn't watch the whole thing.

There are other events I think are a bit lame, horse riding (not racing, riding) where the beast does the work, "Oh thanks for the gold medal SeaTriscuit , here's a carrot." Table tennis, I know these guys are amazing, but it's ping pong. What's next the ring toss and badminton? Oh wait, badminton is an olympic sport. Watch our for that shuttlecock!

This image came up when I searched badminton injury.
My class is almost over so I better wrap this up, but I've saved the best for last. Walking. Walking is an Olympic sport. I can do this. Not very well, and maybe not whilst talking. But I can walk. My two year old can walk. Now, to make it sound more athletic, let us call it Racewalking. There are two rules that govern racewalking. The first dictates that the athlete's (ha!) back toe cannot leave the ground until the heel of the front foot has touched. Violation of this rule is known as loss of contact. The second rule requires that the supporting leg must straighten from the point of contact with the ground and remain straightened until the body passes over it. In other words, you can't run. There are a bunch of judges all along the path that jump in front of the walker and throw up a red card if they cheat. Again, I stress that I could not do this walking and be competitive. But I could do it. I wonder if there are many little boys and girls out there with life size posters of there favorite reacewalkers on their bedroom walls? I have to post a video of this because you won't appreciate racewalking until you see it.

This is the winner of the Gold Medal. My favorite part, if you watch it til the end, is the slow motion replay. Better check the photo finish.
So that is my take on the olympics. Maybe I'll start walking so as to be fit enough to compete at walking or possibly BB gun shooting in the XXX games.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

What the...?

*Disclaimer: If you think you will be offended by my commenting on an eyeless nun, well, then, that's probably a good thing. But you can click here for a somewhat (in some people's opinions) less offensive (albeit much more disturbing) website that may be more up your ally. She was making fun of herself and was able to laugh at her afflictions, so I feel justified in joining in.
At this point in time, you, my valued readers, are probably wondering two things. First, yes, that is a nun with an eye patch. The second thing you are probably wondering is what kind of looser would take a picture of the television, regardless of what was on it. What can I say? The camera was handy and I couldn't help myself. I would like it to be known, however, that this is not a normal practice of mine. In order to understand why I stumbled across this, I must first explain our television situation.
We have had Direct TV for the past two years and, whilst enjoying the programming have not enjoyed the bill. So we decided to switch to the local basic, basic cable. The guy laughed at me on the phone when I requested it and told me people didn't use that anymore. It is $9 a month for approximately 23 channels. About seven of these channels are religious in nature. Imagine my disappointment when one of them was not the BYU channel. Damn.
So I was flipping through the channels the other day when I stumbled across this little chestnut of a program. At first I went right on by, then I choked on my string cheese and did a double take. Says I to myself, "Self, was that a nun with an eye patch?" I had convinced myself that it was not and kept going through the channels until about 18 seconds later when I had cycled through and saw it again. Needless to say I was mesmerized. I'm only human after all, and we all have our weaknesses. At first I thought it was a Saturday Night Live re-run or something, but then I slowly realized that this was for real.
I'll admit that I couldn't look away. At first I even felt a little sorry for her. Then she started joking about how her eye hole was leaking and dabbed at it. While holding in my vomit I was wondering what the producers must have been thinking, when it hit me. What a marvelous marketing strategy. The big wigs and the gospel channel have probably been wondering for quite some time how they could compete with the guy that has a four foot giant golden cross on his chest AND a hat. It worked for me. I can't think of anything more fetching than an eye patched nun.
After I got over the patch and put the camera down I actually listened to what she was saying and she gave a lovely discourse on eternal progression that was not far from the mark. I changed the channel when she started talking about praying to Mary but was impressed overall.
Now, I got to thinking about how drab a black eye patch is. So I've done a little research. Check out this little gem of a website. I'm particularly fond of the pastel colors in the middle of the page, although they do remind me of a woman's brassiere.

Now, I'm no whiz at photoshop, but I think something like this would be much more appropriate. It is functional as well as fashionable. Who says you can't be sexy with an eye patch?

Thursday, February 21, 2008


Firstly, I know, I admit it, I watch American Idol. The first step of recovery is recognizing you have a problem, right?
Well apparently I'm confused about what it takes to make it in the world. The kid that got the most camera time (until he got the boot), is a whining, crybaby, homeless, high school drop out. I dropped out of high school... WAAAHHHH! I live in my car...... WAAAHHHHH! I sing with a British accent...... WAAAAHHHH! I'm an arrogant prick that got kicked off because I suck..... WAAAHHHH. I thought that would be the last we had to see of that douche, but no, now he is on TV shows (Ellen, I'm told. I don't watch that one) getting hooked up with stuff and will probably have a career. Never mind all of the people that were actually talented that got kicked off. So next time you're wondering what it takes to make it in life, remember Josiah. With a great sob story, a crappy car, the ability to cry on demand, and no education, you too can have success. Sanjaya eat your heart out.
"Who put super-glue on my hand? WAAAAHHHHH"

Monday, February 4, 2008

Erica and I look forward to Monday nights. No, no, no, not for family night. It's for the recent and triumphant return of American Gladiators! Supposedly Erica went and saw it when she was a kid. Right. Just like how Patrick Swayze's mother lived down the street from her, she was on Murphy Brown, and how the Poltergeist house is just up the street from where she grew up. And like the one time, when Michael Jackson stopped by to use the bathroom, ok he didn't... but his sister did! She has several more of these fanciful stories for those that are interested. Anyway, for those that have not yet taken the time to watch this fantastic show, I recommend it. The quality acting blows my mind. It is hosted by none other than the amazing HULKSTER (see post below), but that is just the beginning. They have hired an all star cast. I realize that the contestants are going to sound mildly handicapped and a little over excited, but the gladiators are fantastic. I am going to talk about my favorite two, for those of you that don't know them.
First is WOLF!!!
AAHHU AAAHU AHHHHHHHUUUUUUHHHHH (that's my phonetic howl type).
This guy is great he growls and howls at the contestants. Here's what you might not know about Wolf a.k.a. Hollywood Don Yates.

Birthday: February 28, 1970

Birthplace: Phoenix, AZ (That's so awesome!)


Gender: Male
Height: 6 feet 4 in
Weight: 230
Physique: Athletic
Hair Color: Blond(e)
Hair Length: Long
Eyes: Blue
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Voice Type: Baritone


American Gladiators Wolf / Series Regular NBC / David Hurwitz


"American Gladiators" .... Wolf (5 episodes, 2008)
When Shadows Die (2005) (V) .... Biker #3
Vampire Slayers (2005) (V) .... Victor

Performer Skills

Dance: Pop Locking, Hip Hop, Line, Tango, Break, Club/Freestyle
Athletic Skills: Soccer, Aerobics, Boxing, Track & Field, Surfing, Football, Rollerblading, Baseball, Gymnastics, Swimming, Cycling, Basketball, Tennis, Martial Arts, Golf
Accents: Southern, Australian
Performance Skills: Martial Arts, Comedian, Dancing, Improvisation, Singing, Stunts, Host, Voiceover

This is from his website! (I highlighted some of the highlights)

Hollywood�s resume reads like the true Renaissance man - 23 years on the professional rodeo circuit as a bullfighter and rodeo clown, including 2 world titles, 3 National Final Rodeo rings and countless trophies. He wrestled professionally with the WWE and has been a stunt performer and actor. Maybe some of the complexity of his growth explains his wide range in life of this daunting competitor.

Most veterans of the rodeo circuit probably don�t also write poetry and songs and can also pull off acting. Hollywood can be as down to earth and humble as they come, yet when he rolls into the bull-ring or arena- everything changes- �I am not into humiliating people- but when I�m competing, I love destroying any hope my opponent might have- I want to take their heart away-so when they look up and see me- they feel crushed, like there�s no chance at all.�

WOW! not only is he a cowboy, he writes songs and poetry (I'm not sure what all the question mark?s a?re for). And I always wondered who that stunning Biker #3 was in When Shadows Die.

I Include this picture of the WOLF to show his softer side. When he isn't crushing mere mortals on AG (that's American Gladiators), he's just a big puppy dog.

My Next favorite gladiator is HELLGA!! (No that's not a typo, it is H-E-L-L-G-A)

MMMMMM TASTY!! Now, I'm faithful to my wife 100%, but I'm not going to lie, Hellga is a fine specimen of femininity. I couldn't find a birth date or birthplace for Hellga, a.k.a. Robin Coleman. I did find her website, however, but I couldn't bring myself to spring for the VIP access. She is a striking 6'-1" and 205 pounds of pure muscle.
She is very well rounded, and has this to say about her acting skills:

"I have educated myself in two disciplines; method acting (Meisner technique) and improvisational comedy (The Groundlings). This education has proved invaluable to me, and has given me insights about my craft, and suprisingly about my personal life as well. Not to mention great listening skills! "I love your shirt!" "You love my shirt?" "I LOVE YOUR SHIRT!!!" "OK! WHATEVER! YOU LOVE MY SHIRT"...Ah yes, Stanislavski and his method of making you look like a psychopath at the local coffee shop (a regular place of rehersal)."
I think that pretty much says it all.

I hope this little taste of the quality programming available to you all will encourage you to forgo spending time with your families this Monday and view something uplifting.

And yes, I have entirely too much time on my hands.


As I sit here, not paying attention to the lecture I'm paying thousands of dollars for, I ponder the beauties of this lovely city I call home. "Buffalo, an all America City" the sign proudly proclaims as you enter the city limits. I consider myself a positive person, all in all, so I am not going to just rant and rave about what bothers me about living here, rather, I will list something I like about Buffalo for every complaint I delineate. But I will be complaining and whining. You are forewarned.
First and foremost, driving. I can handle a lot of the things people do. We all get cut off, we all get people swerving around us, I don't even mind getting flipped the occasional bird (although I may follow said flipper to their house and break their kneecaps with a nine iron, or at least scream like I will). I can even deal with people driving 45 on the freeway.
Two things I do not like.
First, red means stop. I don't know what these morons were doing the day the elementary school teacher went over this simple concept, but more than once we have had people go around us to run the red light after we have stopped. Never, before living here, have I had to literally wait and look both ways before going when the light turns green. Without fail you see someone fly by seconds after you have the green light.
The second thing that makes me want to rip my own toenails out with a pair of rusty pliers is the hazard lights. Maybe I just haven't learnt how to drive yet, but I was taught that you put your hazards on and pull over if your vehicle is having problems, you have to run to the bushes before you soil yourself, you have an open flesh wound, etc. Apparently in Buffalo the proper protocol when there are no available parking spaces is to park in the middle of the road, and turn the hazard lights on. Maybe they are called hazard lights because you are a hazard when you turn them on, I don't know, but I almost vomit when I have to stop and wait to go around someone because they have decided to stop in the middle of the road. But it's ok because they put their hazards on.
These are just two of the worst driving peeves, which I will categorize as one complaint.
One like.
I like Buffalo because it is close to Canada. We like Canada, it is clean, they have poutine (probably the most delicious food ever), they have Crystal Beach, and they have wunderbars (I know that's spelled weird, but they are Canadian).

Cadburys Wunderbar

This bar is a shell of very chewy toffee coated in creamy milk chocolate and inside - peanut butter.

OK, that was a positive thing, now I get to complain more. Next on my list. The food. Never before in my life have I had a hard time thinking of some sort of restaurant (I'm including fast-food albeit loosely). The service is terrible, we were once told, "we ain't got no sprite and we ain't got no large, what you want." Another time, after paying for our order at Taco Bell, we were politely informed that, "you gunna have to wait 15-20 minutes because we ain't got nuthin warmt up yet." Our friends were told at KFC that they would have to come back in a couple hours, they were out of chicken. The quality leaves a bit to be desired as well. Ask Erica about her beef stew burrito from Mighty Taco sometime.
Another thing, enough with the damn wings already. I say this as a wing lover. There is not a single restaurant here that does not serve wings in some way shape or form. This is appropriate at some restaurants. Congratulations on inventing the chicken wing, but when I walk in to an Italian restaurant, I want spaghetti, not wings.
OK, another positive. Umm..... there are four seasons. This can be a positive/negative. We have now been without power for multiple days on two separate occasions. Both of which were when the average temperature was about 7. A friend saw the power fixing guys out when his power was out and asked them when they would fix it. Not tonight, they said, it's not in the budget. Oh good.
But this is supposed to be a positive, and the spring/summer/fall here are beautiful. It it nice to be able to do things outside in the summer with out scalding yourself on the seatbelt. It is very green and we had a decent garden last year.
As I continue, I realize that this post is getting longer and wasting more of your valuable time than I have any right too. The last thing I will comment on is the economy, I'll try to be brief. I love the taxes here. We pay about $150 in property tax for our house. Did I mention that is monthly?!! So after paying that amount, which is bearable, we get slapped with a school tax of about the equal amount. Never mind we don't and never will have kids in school here. Sales tax is around 9%. But the welfare system is great! I honestly am fine with welfare and think it is great for those that need it, dental students included. But when we were looking for a house our realtor's assistant informed her that she was quitting because she would make more on welfare, and she wouldn't have to work! Isn't that great?! Now I get to pay for my children's food AND hers. Awesome.
Ok. Enough with the ranting. I hope that I have offended, because that was my intent.

Friday, October 12, 2007


So I'm lying on the floor the other day, getting mauled by Ella, and Jeopardy is on in the background. I'm kind of half paying attention and realize that I am questioning all of the answers correctly. I normally average about one in ten, so naturally I'm feeling pretty good about myself. About then is when I noticed that all of the contestants were little kids. I'm not talking Teen Jeopardy, this was Kids Week. These snot-nosed little brats can't even wipe their own butts, but they know more than I do. Now is a good time to point out that I wasn't getting all of the questions right, just more than normal. After that experience I made it a point to try and watch the rest of the week in order to make myself feel intelligent. On Friday, the finale, I was back to my usual one in ten correct, I'll be honest, I was a little frustrated. I would have heartily lost regular jeopardy, then double jeopardy started. I've heard that you can judge an individuals character by the way that they speak i.e., the quality of language they use. I'm not going to lie, I cleaned up during double Jeopardy and I let those little pukes know it. I'm probably the only person to scream at little kids (whilst they were on a television game show) and rub in their faces that I am smarter than they are. I also informed them that I could beat them up if it came to it. I know, I'm a classy guy, but what can you do?

On a different note, what's with the news in Buffalo?
Since we moved here a little over a year ago, we have heard about the possibility of a "Bass Pro Shop" opening up. I have no idea what makes this so special, but I would compare it to the hype around a new stadium being built in a real city. They have gone back and forth about whether or not is was going to be built no less than ten times. And every time they do it is the number one news story of the month. Most news stations give teasers about big world events or exclusive stories, not in Buffalo. The top story is about a fish store. Not once, not twice, but for several years. Apparently Buffalonians think it's the best thing since sliced bread. Yeah Buffalo.
HOWEVER, the last time I heard about this on the news they did redeem themselves a bit with the next story. Unfortunately it was not a local story, but it was about a teacher that decided it would be a good idea to staple a Post-It note to a fourth-grader's forehead. I don't even need to elaborate on that one.
I teach primary at church (surprising I know, but the church IS true), and I had an interesting experience today. You know how kids say cute little things? Like that church movie, "From the Mouthes of Babes." We had a combined junior and senior primary to practice for the music program. One of the teachers asked a question and one of the little boys repeatedly shouted, "I don't know what the hell that means!". He then told all of the other kids they sucked at singing. I thought it was funny. He's a surly lad.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Amazing Healthcare

After Erica delivered our child at the Millard Fillmore Suburban hospital, I did a little research to determine the qualifications needed to work there. Whilst searching I stumbled across this application form on the city's official website:
Needless to say we were unimpressed with the care she received. The first "Dr." we had contact with, a resident (which is fine), almost spoke english. He walked in the room and the first thing I noticed as he walked by was a mole the size and shape of Texas on his arm. I swear one of the hairs on it brushed my nose.
Now, I don't claim to be a doctor, but I am taking a pathology class in which we had to learn the ABCs of when a mole is possibly malignant (Area, Boarder, Color and Diameter). And that nevus is in serious need of attention. The large growth notwithstanding, this fellow seemed ok at first. Then he spoke and I couldn't understand a word he was saying. So we nodded and smiled and figured everything was ok. He then decided that he would do a little ultrasounding to make sure everything looked good. All kidding aside it was at least twenty minutes before he, and three nurses, could figure out how to turn the thing on. Turns out it was the big red ON button on the front of the machine.
The nurse told us he didn't normally work there and that was why he didn't know how to do anything. Oh, goodie, just the guy you want taking care of your pregnant wife. Fortunately, a different, english-speaking, resident (albeit a hippie) came to work with us. As my dear wife already shared, when Dr. hippie broke her water there were some minor complications, and she told us she wanted to bring in another doctor to get a second opinion. Guess who she brings back? None other than Mr Mole. So the two of them poke around for a while, finally settle on the fact that they have no idea what in the sam hell they are doing and decide to bring in another doctor.
I was excited at first when Apu Nahasapeemapetilon walked in because I figured someone had ordered us squishies from the Kwik-E-Mart and he was there to deliver them. Boy was I disappointed when it turned out he was the "real" doctor that was supposed to help. He was filled in on what they didn't know was happening and he called in a few other people to look around. This guy then scares the crap out of Erica and starts telling her that she might need a C-section, but they weren't sure yet and yadda yadda yadda. Ok, so we start thinking that it might go the cesarean way, next thing we know there are numbing her up and having me change in to scrubs. Somewhere along the way "we're going to monitor them for a while" turned in to "let's cut the baby out" without telling us. Fortunately Erica's real doctor came in time to clear everything up.
I won't even start on the nurses Erica had after the birth. How dare we assume that someone should respond after ringing the buzzer thing three times in two hours?
When we took Ruby in for her first check up the doctor left for a minute and in walks this nurse with a handful of syringes. So Erica asks if she is getting shots already and the lady says, "Yep." She continues to prepare whilst my wife and I are trying to figure out what is going on. Then Erica asked her if she was sure Ruby was supposed to get shots already. The lady said, "Yeah, this is Rhabada Shalamaka right?" we told her no, and she laughed and left to wander around the building looking for someone that would let her put needles into their child. I don't think I have ever met so many people with their heads in their rectums in so short a time. I love Buffalo.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

facial hair

I recently made an attempt at growing some facial hair. In order to give you an honest visualization of what it looked like (this picture is from last year's man-stache), I will post a few of my wife's comments.

First she informed my that my beard (that I thought was progressing nicely) looked worse than the 14 year-olds in our ward. While none of the boys would pose, I thought Hans Klopek would suffice. So I decided to appease my lovely wife and shave off the beard, leaving the sexy mustache as seen above. I was then informed that I looked like a "white trash, teenage mexican, Chester the molester ". I disagree.
As many of you probably DO NOT know, the mustache has a rich and illustrious history, dating back to 300 B.C. Due to discrimination and bigotry the American Mustache Institute (AMI) has been established to protect and promote this beautiful icon of Manness.
I could argue all day in favor of support of the mustache, but I will rest my case by presenting two of the most influential, and well-respected individuals of ALL TIME.
What Brother?! That's right, mustaches RULE!!

You may be saying, “Wait, thats a beard…he can’t be your example!” but you’d be a damned fool.
Chuck Norris doesn’t have a beard.
His mustache has overpowered the rest of his facial hair and claimed the entire face as it’s own.
And it deflects bullets.
And woos the ladies.
And cures cancer