Thursday, November 22, 2012


I look, if I may say so, boss. Like a TV cop from the seventies.

Seriously, this thing provides its own swagger. Can a face even swagger?

How could a face swagger?

How could my face swagger?

No idea, but let’s face it, face, you fucking swagger.

It’s the perfect accompaniment to a face that already brings so much to the table, adding maturity and masculinity to my already considerable supply of charm.

And I love it.

I know I say this every year, but this time I mean it. When Movember comes to an end, I’m keeping the ‘Stache.

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