Showing posts with label Bad Fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bad Fashion. Show all posts

Monday, December 14, 2009

Facial Hair, by A. Munro


Ahh facial hair….the sole male accessory that cannot be duplicated by the opposite sex. It can create an allure of mystery and confidence, confirm one’s status as the alpha male and even entice an unsure prey…all without a single uttered word. Legends have been told about a perfect 4 o’clock shadow and careers made on perfecting the male goatee. Like with most accessories, this look is easier for boys naturally endowed with the powers of cool. However, a well groomed, not overly designed, hair creation can recapitulate your look and enhance all those traits you secretly want people to notice. When we see a slightly disheveled boy walk in his scruff lets us know he was too preoccupied to shave…did he spend his night creating art and was so enthralled that earthly grooming customs did not apply? Was a certain femme fatale responsible for his appearance after a night of mind-blowing sex? The possibilities are endless but the guaranteed result is a uniform interest in the boy in question. And, of course, there are also the unquestionable references to James Bond, Jack Sparrow and tormented rock star that may score you a stone cold 9. The point is every boy should try this look at least once in their life…you will not be disappointed with what you discover.





However, a few pieces of advice. The soul patch is NOT ok. EVER. Neither are flesh colored beards. Also avoid anything that may be misconstrued as pubes on your face. If we wanted to make out with a cooter we would date a girl. You’re welcome. :)


Tuesday, November 3, 2009

"Don't" -the second installment, by A. Munro


...I may be at a loss for words for once in my life. What kind of tail do these MTV "The Grind" rejects pull? I mean they MUST attract some girls otherwise there is no logical explanation for this eye rape they subjected me too. Of course the girls are probably something that was pulled out of a porter-potty drain from the Rock of Love bus and navigating amidst all the herpes sores can be a challenge but one should never look a gift horse in the mouth right? Perhaps it is the knowledge that when you're sneaking out of her motel room at 5am in your tattered designer jeans carrying your tailored "cowboy" leather shirt casually over your shoulder as a trail of orange tan lingers on the pillow you know that you are the epitome of style and everything your dad wanted his boy to be.


Excuse me...need bucket...