What Your Facial Hair Says About You : Mustaches

Tom Selleck. Ron Jeremy. Groucho Marx. All dudes with limited career options at this point, but more importantly, all dudes with notable mustaches. Historically, the mighty ‘stache has been a calling card of masculinity, and this doesn't appear to be changing any time soon. Also, I would call attention to the popular t-shirt reading "Mustache Rides - 5 cents." I'm pretty sure this can be counted as history's first meme.

What it says about you:

The Chevron

As the proud bearer of a classic American mustache, I know how to get things done. Whatever my job is, I'm good at it, and I enjoy it. And it's probably something cool, like "race car driver" or "middle relief pitcher."

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The Horseshoe

I've absolutely no dignity left to assail. I'm probably not an actual biker, but if I put on a leather jacket as well, at least no one will crowd me on the bus. In rare cases: This Tuesday I'll be fighting the Iron Sheik at the Imperial Bingo Palace on Interstate 41. Whatcha gonna do, when these 24-inch pythons run wild on you, brother!

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The Toothbrush

If it's later than 1945, and I'm not appearing in a biopic about the life of Charlie Chaplin, there's something seriously wrong here, fraulein.

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The Handlebar

I am more concerned with looking stylish than looking tough. I probably know other mustache guys, but I'm far too classy to point out that their shapeless tufts fall far short of my efforts.Alternatively: Hey Paizan! Whatta you want on this-a pizza?

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The Pencil

I'm an artistic type, and my art tends to push boundaries. Even if that "art" is stage magic, mime, or tango instruction.

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The Fu-Manchu

I might be an intergalactic villain intent on conquering the galaxy, or I might just be the creepy guy in the neighborhood who hangs out a little too close to the playground for comfort. Either way, better steer clear.

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The Walrus

I'm so manly, I basically grew a second ballsack on my face. I'm pretty handy with power tools, but don't kid yourself. I could chop down a tree faster than you too. So could my horse, and my 12 to 15 kids. Who, incidentally, refer to me as "Pa."

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The English

I talk with some sort of weird accent which I obviously adopted after spending a semester in some weird country. But at least I'm handy to have around; at this very moment, there's enough wax on my lip to sculpt a little candle in case of a blackout.

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