Poems About Mustaches. For the Children.

THE WORLD IS ENDING EVERYONE'S GOING TO DIE AND I HAVE THE ONLY CURE SO LOOK OVER HERE NOW QUICK!!!!!!

Okay, none of that is true, just wanted y'all to LISTEN UP.

Today is the last day of the Mustache-a-thon! Get pumped. Do the mashed potato. Now the twist. Now the monkey. Okay now stop.

I have spent multiple times explaining what the M-a-thon is, but here it is one more time:
-Doing mustache-related things.
-To raise money.
-For an inner city children's tutoring program, called "826."
-If you donate $5, I'll write a blog post about you.
-If you donate $10+, I'll write the post, and Adrienne will design you a personal logo.

Where to donate? RIGHT HERE. scroll down until you see pictures. Adrienne and I are Collabostache (four over, two down). Donate away! This is our last chance! (Technically you can donate for one more week, but if you do it by 7pm (central time...you kids in Boston get until 8.) then we get all the glory at our meeting tonight. After that, no glory. But the children will still appreciate it.)

Still need a reason to donate? Well, our challenge for tonight was to do something mustache-related in a performance kind of way.

So I wrote a "that's good/that's bad" poem (Like: "I went to the store." "That's good!" "But they were out of milk." "That's bad." etc) and it's all about the 'stache.

And Adrienne has made mustaches for people to attire themselves with when bad or good things happen. See?



And here is the poem to accompany them. (Ahem ahem ahem):

Today I wore my brown mustache
It’s crooked on my lip.
But when Da Bearsss scored seven points
It did a stache backflip.

Today I wore my thick mustache
That curls up at the ends
It makes me look so very bad
Bad-ASS that is, my friends.

Today I wore my little stache
That makes me say Oui, Oui!
I look just like a rich arteest!
But, also, a pansy.

Today I wore my blonde mustache
That reaches to my jaw
It put me in the perfect mood
To promptly break the law

Today I wore a small mustache
To look like Chaplin’s Tramp
But once I lost my bowler hat,
It turned to Nazi stamp.

Today I wore no stache at all
And that is just the pits
But luckily I raised some dough
For kids at 826.

So go here, donate, and wait for your lovely, lovely blog post.