Movember, the month formerly, and currently, and indefinitely, and globally, and legally known as November, is the newest 'Thing Liked By Me'. I like Movember because it is the month that differentiates the boys from the men. The mo' capable from the mo' challenged. The Mo’ ture, from the imMo’ture.
Movember, which takes place throughout the month of November, requires men (and well endowed women) (and ladyboys) (and young ethnic boys) to grow out their mustaches to raise awareness (please mo'nate mo'ney HERE) for prostate cancer research.
For those of you who were unaware of this initiative, you can now sleep soundly knowing that the recent influx of pervert staches is for a good cause.
Movember, which takes place throughout the month of November, requires men (and well endowed women) (and ladyboys) (and young ethnic boys) to grow out their mustaches to raise awareness (please mo'nate mo'ney HERE) for prostate cancer research.
For those of you who were unaware of this initiative, you can now sleep soundly knowing that the recent influx of pervert staches is for a good cause.
I used to think that there just happened to be a lot of people who all of a sudden developed speech impediments when naming the month of November. Like when my little sister used to say “Mo” instead of “No”, or “I’m Foxy Pleoplatric, and I’m a whole lotta woman!” instead of “I’m Foxy Cleopatra”, or when I would ask my parents for “Pocklate covered Farnies” instead of Smarties.
I was initially skeptical of Movember, because it seemed to cross over into ‘hipster’ territory- a cause for which I have no support. Since its inception, the Hipster movement has brought mustaches to the forefront of men’s faces. They have become the quintessential uniform of hipsterocity (See also: plaid, corduroy, side parts, Siddhartha). Unfortunately, Hipsters* were being viewed as weapons of non-prescription glasses destruction, and had tarnished the mustache's good name.
Look, all I’m saying is that people don’t kill people. People with mustaches kill people.
To add to my hesitation, I didn’t really get what the relevance of growing a mustache to raise awareness for prostate cancer was. Mustaches are not exclusive to men, while prostates are (See also: Menopause, Jewish women). I felt as if the ‘pink ribbon’ of prostate cancer should be something a little more unique to men- like, always being wrong. “Every time you’re wrong, donate $1 to prostate cancer research”.
The final reason why I had a hard time submitting to the Movember cause was because of what HGTV has told me time and time again. LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION. Your prostate can be located through your anus, not your upper lip**. If you really wanted to raise awareness of prostate cancer, wouldn’t you want to show off your prostate? Create a "Hole-In-One" day at the office? Hovember? I don't know. Something a little more related.
Thanks to my vivid imagination, I quickly realized why this would never work and decided to learn more about the initiative. Thanks to my darling hairy BF who was jumping onto the Movember bandwagon himself, I experienced a shift in my mo'tives.
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Mustaches. The flavour savor of our father’s generation. The facial marking of history's greatest mass murderers saviors. The cleft palettes' best friend. Forever.
My boyfriend accepted Mo'sus into his life. But nobody said it would be easy for me.
Like a fluffy little caterpillar, the mustache slowly crept into my livelihood in the form of a 5 o'clock shadow on my boyfriends face.
By 6:00pm he had a full stache going, and for a second, I thought I was with another man. This excited me, until I realized that I was, in fact, with another man. I grabbed my belongings, embraced Stephan one last time, and rushed back home to see my boyfriend.
Phew. His mustache was still in its pre-pubescent phase.
But by the next morning it was a full out porn-stache. I didn't know if I should run for dear life or hop onto his bicycle and speed away. I chose the latter, until I realized that I actually jumped on his face, and was holding onto his handlebar mustache.
There was no escape. I had to look at the big picture.
Here's the bigger picture:
Notorious B.I.G. was wrong.
Mo' money, Less Problems.
Mo' money allows for mo' research. Mo' research leads to mo' trials. Mo' trials leads to mo' solutions. Mo' solutions leads to less problems. Mo' money, less problems.
You'll probably all go out this week for breakfast, lunch, dinner, coffee or late night drinks. And not one of you (except for you, you cheap mo'fo) will bat an eyelash when it comes time to pay the bill. Some of you might go shopping, some of you might catch a movie, some of you might buy a couple extra sweets at the grocery store.
I'm not forcing you to do anything, but don't do nothing.
If this isn't the cause for you, find a cause that is. People spend money so easily when they can reap immediate benefits so as to alleviate the guilt felt by swiping their credit card. I'm guilty of it myself. But once in a while, I try to do something . I try to do something that makes me feel like a decent human being.
And the best thing about it all, is that the feeling lasts a whole lot longer than a 2 hour movie, a 40 minute meal, or a 60% off sale.
Suck on that, Biggy.
*The good news is that people from London, ON don't know what Hipsters are.
**Girls, we don’t have one of these. Don’t go looking for it because it will waste about 3 hours of your time, and will leave you feeling vulnerable, disappointed and alone.
My boyfriend accepted Mo'sus into his life. But nobody said it would be easy for me.
Like a fluffy little caterpillar, the mustache slowly crept into my livelihood in the form of a 5 o'clock shadow on my boyfriends face.
By 6:00pm he had a full stache going, and for a second, I thought I was with another man. This excited me, until I realized that I was, in fact, with another man. I grabbed my belongings, embraced Stephan one last time, and rushed back home to see my boyfriend.
Phew. His mustache was still in its pre-pubescent phase.
But by the next morning it was a full out porn-stache. I didn't know if I should run for dear life or hop onto his bicycle and speed away. I chose the latter, until I realized that I actually jumped on his face, and was holding onto his handlebar mustache.
There was no escape. I had to look at the big picture.
Here's the bigger picture:
Notorious B.I.G. was wrong.
Mo' money, Less Problems.
Mo' money allows for mo' research. Mo' research leads to mo' trials. Mo' trials leads to mo' solutions. Mo' solutions leads to less problems. Mo' money, less problems.
You'll probably all go out this week for breakfast, lunch, dinner, coffee or late night drinks. And not one of you (except for you, you cheap mo'fo) will bat an eyelash when it comes time to pay the bill. Some of you might go shopping, some of you might catch a movie, some of you might buy a couple extra sweets at the grocery store.
I'm not forcing you to do anything, but don't do nothing.
If this isn't the cause for you, find a cause that is. People spend money so easily when they can reap immediate benefits so as to alleviate the guilt felt by swiping their credit card. I'm guilty of it myself. But once in a while, I try to do something . I try to do something that makes me feel like a decent human being.
And the best thing about it all, is that the feeling lasts a whole lot longer than a 2 hour movie, a 40 minute meal, or a 60% off sale.
Suck on that, Biggy.
*The good news is that people from London, ON don't know what Hipsters are.
**Girls, we don’t have one of these. Don’t go looking for it because it will waste about 3 hours of your time, and will leave you feeling vulnerable, disappointed and alone.
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