That’s right folks. We really did a great job fundraising, except for Sean. He didn’t even show up for the fucking practice. Everyone else took photos, bugged their friends, looked cool, etc…, but not Sean. He was too busy not getting any phone numbers from women. You know why? No moustache!
If any of you are on speaking terms with Sean, could you tell him that next year he should let us know if he’s not going to actually participate. As long as we know, we can hire a stache double to sit in for him. That way when people look at our team, we aren’t embarrassed to shit, that one of our MoBros is a SHINY, FUCKING PIG.
I digress. Instead of focusing on the negative, I should talk about how utterly awesome our hand picked band of moustachioed beefcakes has been. I would have these masters of the man-hair back on this team, any day. We’ll run them down for you in no particular order, right after we show you some figures from our CTT team for Movember. I snuck the link in, because you can donate until the end of December, but if you’d rather, the lady at the top of the sidebar could really use some help too. If you were inclined to give some cash up, I’ll leave it up to you as to where your money would be better spent. Read her story if you haven’t yet.
Had a hard time figuring out if he was going to be able to do Movember, not so much because of his work, but because of the threats of no kissing for 30 days. I assured him that having a badass stache was better than kissing, he scratched his head and contemplated his pros and cons. Luckily Kari gave him a last minute reprieve, because it was for such a good cause. I think she made a good choice, because he rocked that shit, and I think in her heart, Kari was imagining him as a 70’s street thug. I know I was. So sexy. See for yourself.
This handsome bastard is officially my brother in law, and unofficially the best singer-songwriter in the family. This Movember marks the first time that his darling wife has seen him with a shorn face. From the sounds of it, I’d say Katie was a fan. Now, Roadie, being the creative mind that he is, put together a video, so I don’t have to scour the web for photos of his transition. Thanks, dude.
While you are here, you should check out his cover of Close To The Sun.
Not to be confused with the deadbeat Sean, this guy was a late start, and the first money earner on the team. He was a pretty hairy SOB when he did the first shave down, and I think Ang said he went through two Wahl trimmers and three blades for his Quattro, just to get ready for this shindig. We were glad to have him on the team this year, and hopefully he’ll come back next year, when we can have time to get some properly lit photos to detail his fair coloured lip weasel.
This fun prick is a staple here at CTT, and he’s about as good as they come when you’re looking for a friend. He’s as handy with a hockey stick as he is with a bottle of Tequila and sleeping on the couch, and you can always count on him for the right advice or a laugh to cheer you up. I had honestly thought that there was nothing he wasn’t good at, until I saw him grow a moustache. I’ve seen twelve year old girls with more lip whiskers than this guy. I know that I shouldn’t razz a guy who has helped so much, but come on. That’s it? Ha ha, you know I’m kind of kidding, buddy.
Hailing from the middle of nowhere, this follicly challenged Mo Bro helped us out with bringing in the ducats, and giving us a laugh along the way. Quite eager to shave a cat for the cause, it was probably not the first. We were sure glad to have Dustin along for the ride.
This handsome sumbitch is all class. He shaved his original porn star off to help us reach the finish line, and agreed to come to the studio, not once, but twice for some portraiture. Little does he know that we’re prepping him for any photo blog posts that we do this winter, and maybe some life guarding on the next Trash The Dress. Anyhow, here’s the man of granite, Scotty P.
Hey there, I guess now it’s my turn. Anyhow, there’s not much to say about me, except that I’m so very grateful to have the friends and family that I have. You couldn’t buy a wife as good as the one I have, and my friends let me do shit like this with them. I suppose I should tell you about all of the great men I’ve known that were taken too early by cancer, and talk to you about how they are the reason I started doing this, but It’s totally not true.
Those guys are gone. There’s no helping them now, and I’m not one to dwell on memories. My reason is right here
and our two little girls. I almost called them her little girls, but I caught myself. They may not be my biological daughters, but I think of them as though they are. Even though they already have a perfectly
goodgreat dad, I figure you can never have too many guys looking out for you.
They are the reason I do this, because I never want to be without them, but even more, I don’t want them to be without me. I will try whatever I can to stay alive for them, and if hounding my friends for a bit of money can increase the chance that they will find a cure for this fucking piece of shit disease, then why wouldn’t I?
Don’t we all want someone to grow old with? Someone that we can tell anything to. Someone who makes you laugh, and think, and love like you’ve never loved before? Well I have that, and it took me 39 years to get here, so I want to make it last as long as I can. Can you blame me?
Anyway, here’s the fucking pictures, if my goddamn crying doesn’t short circuit the goddamn keyboard.
Let me sleep on it, baby baby, let me sleep on it… let me sleep on it, I’ll give you my answer in the morning,