OK, so Mo-vember rules state that moustaches are only supposed to start growing on 1 November but then there's nothing fair, equitable or law abiding about this soup strainer. On the contrary, this is clearly the nasty, snarling sort of ‘tache that would, if it could, spend its days sucking cheap whisky out of chipped glasses and wrestlinh dwarves with Mike Tindall and his crew.
But you’d see another side to the little critter too, if you’d take the time to get to know him. As winter closes in and the nights grow longer and colder, this is one facial adornment that stops to think about those who don’t have snug, warm moustache nets to sleep in each night and who don’t get to gobble up about half of anything that I try to manoeuvre into my mouth. That’s why this Mo-vember the old fuzzy-man will be supporting The Passage, a homeless charity based in the heart of London who every day help more than 200 people without homes. You can find out more here.
Fun facts about my moustache…
This moustache is so big and dense that, if it were to be thinned out to the density of your average living room carpet, you could use it to cover enough double decker buses to fill Wembley Stadium – all the way to the moon.
All evil dictators have awful moustaches and, even with the fall of Gaddafi, Zimbabwe and Syria remain in the clutches of weak upper lip hair. Stalin was the only megalomaniac monster to sport a decent looking ‘tache – except his was a fake. True story. No one knows what happened to that lip wig after his death, but one thing is certain: This is not that moustache.
There is no ginger in my moustache.
