In a futile and ill-advised attempt to gain the respect of firefighters and police officers everywhere, as well as to inject some much needed testosterone into my aura, I've decided to try to grow a mustache. I will chronicle the impending fallout. This is my story.DAY 8
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZy5SQE0jGHPIUSjegN-p2mX2pP-khSzFni_jAKEkkvSAU5hnCIPQZ2lB0Tn3ctGErg5p49tBOAtVKExtA0GyBHGSJlxqBl8Zt69PE-GlhoP-MyHPzJEEpzWDSccvs5HVdBCQe0w/s320/IMG_0921.JPG)
Comments: Good Lord, do I play baseball for the Houston Astros? Am I a hockey player? Goatees are sooo pre-9/11. Is it time to shave it into a stache? No! Too soon! Too soon! This look tells the world, "I enjoy drinking domestic light beer out of a can."
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