There’s nothing quite like tight gold pants and a black leather shirt to make a mustache look like the ultimate sketchy accessory on top of an already sketchy-to-the-max persona.  The picture to the left, posted on the utterly hilarious and, quite frankly, sad (in terms of how lame some people are) blog failbooking, is about as comfortable as using a cheese grater on your johnson.

Wearing a mustache is unfortunately a right, not a privilege, and sometimes it can be used for purposes other than the greater good.  In this instance, it is used to help compound my nightmares of “Uncle Creepy”.  For any fans out there of the WWF in the 1990s, Uncle Creepy is Gold Dust – athleticism – fake plot + mustache = likely sexual deviant (“NSFW” photo album- though confusing and uncomfortable, likely safe for your work here: Uncle Creepy’s Creepiest Hits).