What I'm trying to say is, my mustache may not exactly be winning any arm-wrestling matches quite yet, but I'm not worried about it.
Of course, if you're one of the millions of Americans who hang on my every word and keep lifting me up on their shoulders and handing me trophies every time I try to exit my place of residence, you're well familiar with the incredibly lustrous 'stache I generally rock -- but if you're one of those Americans, you'll also know that last week, I shaved it off. I did it for Movember, that great month when we reappropriate the ordinarily worthless month of November toward the goal of curing cancer with mustaches, the idea being that tens of thousands more people with mustaches will spark the conversation of how to prevent prostate cancer (through annual check-ups), thereby raising awareness and punching cancer right in its stupid face, Magnum P.I. style.
And as usual, I'm in it to win it this month, by growing the greatest mustache the world has ever seen. I intend to raise enough awareness to terrify cancer into hiding for ten years, much like Osama bin Laden, and then hunting it down, exterminating it and tossing its body into the sea without a shred of confirming evidence. The good news is, I still don't have cancer. The bad news is, many other people still do. And it's not too late to get in the race.
Of course, Movember isn't just about raising awareness to fight cancer; it's also about raising money to fight cancer, and last year it managed to scrape together about $81 million for the cause. And that skrill doesn't just materialize: Movember requires participants to raise it. Here's how you do that: First, register at Movember.com. Once you have an account, you can send out messages via Twitter and Facebook encouraging people to either donate via your "MoSpace" page or face the wrath; that money goes directly into the Movember coffers, and the total is split between the Prostate Cancer Foundation and LIVESTRONG.
As for my mustache growth so far, I'm admittedly not winning any Burt Reynolds look-alike contests -- yet -- but that doesn't mean I'm beaten or even close to beaten. Because Sputnik is something, but, gentlemen, I'm going straight to the moon.
