Every November 1st, some Admirals Club members shave to a clean face. We remove our beards and stubble to grow a mustache. Others begin the first of 30 consecutive days of exercise, including high-intensity workouts like running and weightlifting and lower ones like walking and yoga. And some do both.
We, as a team, dedicate the month of Movember (moustache + November) to fun, fitness, and health — all of which can be hard to set time aside for the other 12 months of the year. For 30 days, we grow silly facial hair and improve our own health — all to raise funds and awareness of the biggest impacts to men’s health:
Testicular and prostate cancer.
Mental illness and suicide.
Poor health due to physical inactivity and social stigma.
These combined factors contribute to men living 6 fewer years on average than women, leaving behind family and friends way too soon. And in most cases, it’s entirely preventable.
We’re cultivating health, one face at a time. The funds we raise improve testicular and prostate cancer treatment outcomes and contribute to research for cures. We help fund the Prostate Cancer Foundation and LiveStrong’s research, treatment and detection access, and quality of life programs for diagnosed men and their families. We help pay for grassroots mental health and suicide prevention programs, reaching men who would otherwise never seek treatment. We help fund the Movember Foundation’s wellness and fitness campaigns, getting men outside and active, helping them eat better and stop smoking.
And the best part is that, although we start the month looking like clean-shaven babies, we end it looking dapper and feeling fit.
SeriouslyGuys documented earlier this month how crazed and/or bored Internet users in mostly Southern states filed petitions to secede from the United States almost immediately after President Barack Obama won reelection. Of course, many Web sites like ours joked about letting those mostly former Confederate states go their merry, debt-filled, uninsured way.
Look, nobody most people weren’t really serious about that. Not really, anyway. While, yes, things would be simpler if the states that require the most federal money, yet never want to pay for it, struck it out on their own, we wouldn’t be the same country. Deep fried Oreos would be reclassified as “ethnic food” just because it comes from another country, and our nation’s foodies eat enough fried foreign tripe as it is.
But, what about Florida?
It’s tempting to brush the thought off as reheated jokes from 2000 … but wouldn’t any other state have gotten their shit together in the twelve years since they attempted to derail democracy in America? Not Florida. Consider that in 2012, when even phones are smarter, Florida still managed to take nearly a month to settle what should have been a routine Congressional election.
Make no mistake, though: Florida’s questionable election practices is merely the Charlie Parker record I’m playing to set the mood. I’ve not yet begun to take this state to Poundtown.
Florida may be the most self-loathing of all states, having embraced a set of laws that allow armed citizens to cull their human population. What we call “vigilantes,” Floridians now call “ground-standing Americans.” Their latest example is Michael Dunn, who police have charged with murdering (but only to the second degree) an unarmed black teenager after opening fire on his friend’s car. Granted, he and his friends didn’t turn down their music even when a white man asked them to. Coupled with their skin color, this makes them a threat, and ground must be stood!
Unfortunately, Florida’s plan for more Florida per Floridian can only result in buyer’s remorse once the remaining state citizens realize what they’ve fought for. Fortunately, Florida is also unable to research birth control, so those numbers should go back up, no matter how many neighborhood watch captains they appoint.
Their latest attempt, aptly titled “Florida’s Women’s Contraception Use Survey,” managed to rankle their own media for simply asking the appropriate party, Florida’s women, to anonymously confirm or deny their use of contraceptives. When one survey went to a woman under the age of 18, a demographic that never has sex, the state Department of Health was forced to rescind a second mailing.
So, if we keep Florida, we keep the state that can neither control their penises or their penis metaphors. And can we really call them American if they still can’t get the basics like voting down? Perhaps it’s time to castrate the United States before it can get us in trouble again.
Movember Update: The Final Days
This is it! After 28 days, my mustache is as full and molestery as it’s gonna get, and there’s only two days left to make your donation. I’ve jeopardized my sex life and continued employment, but it’s all been worth it thanks to your support.
Together, we’ve raised $810 dollars, all of which goes to the Prostate Cancer Foundation, Livestrong and the Movember Foundation. And, with my two teammates, we’ve raised a cool $1,000 dollars for the cause!
It’s not too late to help, though. Do you want to wake up December 1st and say to yourself, “Self, I meant to donate to Movember 2012, but I just ran out of time?” Of course not! If you can donate, go to my Movember page while it’s still fresh on your mind.
And if you can’t donate, but shared the page with your friends, rated my mustache or didn’t use my picture to teach your kids about Stranger Danger, then thank you!
You know, I thought your average American voter was a reasonably bright, discerning individual. Someone who can learn from past mistakes, and not elect the same failure. It appears I was wrong. America, how could you be so stupid? How could you re-elect Bill Pullman as President of the United States?
That’s right, America. You brainless dolts just re-elected the idiot who nearly let aliens destroy America, nuked a major American city (remember Houston!), and then gave away the secret to destroying our enemy to every nation on Earth, including Russia and China. And, on top of it all, before he at least got in a plane to shoot down an alien, he put on a flight suit and gave a giant “This is our Independence Day, Mission Accomplished” speech.
Speaking of, does anyone know if Bill Pullman actually shot down a single alien? I’ve heard from a few military sources that he made up all of his kills that day and faked a Purple Heart, too.
You can make all the excuses you want, like how he changed his name from President Thomas J. Whitmore in 1996 to President Dale Gilchrist today. Or, how this Bill Pullman is clearly married to Jenna Elfman, forgetting that it’s the same damn Pullman and he basically killed his first wife by leading from behind during the worst alien invasion of the U.S. since Mars Attacks.
You did this, America. And it’s up to me as a patriot — which shares the same roots with patriarchy, or fatherhood — to rub your nose in the mess you’ve made. I hope you’re happy with damning our nation to a new alien menace. Or worse: socialistic fascistic communism-docious! (If you say it loud enough, it really sounds atrocious!)
And the worst part of it all? It’s clear that he bought the young hipster votes by renaming the White House 30 Rock-style. Yeah, we get it: 1600 Penn — it’s the building number and an abbreviation that is actually a cool word, like these pennin’ jeans I’m wearing that make all the girlies scream. It’s always pandering if the president isn’t speaking to my race, age and gender, dammit.
Congratulations, America … for however long it lasts, anyway.
It’s that time of year again where I sacrifice a year of sexual eligibility by growing a mustache. In exchange, you can donate to my Movember page, where I provide daily updates on how it’s growing in. All proceeds go to the Prostate Cancer Foundation, Livestrong (which isn’t having the best PR year and could use your support) and the Movember Foundation.
We join my mustache in media res on Day Seven. My stubble’s now in that awkward phase where it’s not quite a hormone imbalance, but not entirely a respectable sign of paternal authority. This is the hardest part of Movember when, during any other month, a man would look at this attempt and say, “Eh, maybe I’m not a mustache guy,” and shave the damn thing off. But, I will continue with this because
I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again.
With supporters’ help, I’ve already raised $500, so now I kind of have to.
Can we make it $1000 by November 30th? We can and we will with your support. Go to my Movember page to make donations, track my daily progress, rate my silly face caterpillar and leave inspirational comments. And even if you can’t donate, please like, tweet and “plus one” my page so more people can find it. With your help, my face could go viral like goatse!
Thanks, and may your Movember be filled with mustache wax and caviar stuck in your mustache dreams!
It’s that time of year again, where I sacrifice a month of sexual viability to raise money to fight prostate, testicular, and other mantastic cancers.
For the unfamiliar, participating in Movember means I will grow a mustache, beginning clean-shaven Nov. 1 and not to be shaven off until Dec. 1. This may only be a mustache. Not a beard. Not a goatee. Not a Lemmy. Not even a mustache-soul patch combination. Definitely not a Wolverine. Just a mustache.
So, that’s my part. Here’s where you come in: by donating to my Movember page. The entire amount of your donation goes to Livestrong, the Prostate Cancer Foundation, and the Movember Foundation. I, however, am on my own for the cost of trimming and waxing this lipwarmer. Any amount you can give is welcome, no matter how small. The life you save may be your bro’s.
And, you can also join my Movember team, Team Snee. Team Snee members must abide by the rules of Movember, namely by growing and maintaining only a mustache for the month of November. Ladies, you can join as well, but you aren’t allowed to grow a fuller, thicker mustache than mine. (If necessary, I can supply mustache stencils for your Movember solidarity bush.)
In the meantime, be sure to check my Movember page for daily updates, including photos and mustache diary entries. I promise that the first few weeks of pictures will make it all worth it. The last week, however, gets a little … debonaire.