Monday, August 10, 2009

[26 Days to Go] But What About The Buckstache?

We here at Mustaches for Michigan sorely miss one of our favorite blogs, The M Zone. Whether it was hating on Charlie Weis, providing a symbol to sheppard us through another dark time in our team’s storied history, or just getting us through the week until game day with tales of cheerleaders turning to porn, The M Zone provided a world class forum for Michigan Football. But perhaps the most legendary of all their posts was this one.
Ah yes, the Buckstache. The calling card of criminals, vagabonds, and ne’er-do-wells. So you might wonder....why would we willingly wade into these mustachioed waters? Be not afraid, the answer is that you will notice a fundamental difference between the wispy, unkempt trashiness of what our Southern counterparts call facial hair and The Michigan Man’s Mustache.

Note the deep chasm separating the quality and machismo of these typical samples.
If you are unable to grow a mustache for whatever reason—work duties, interviews, gracefully opting out to prevent yourself from looking like one of these guys, or if you happen to be one of our lovely Michigan Women, we have the solution for you (template).
Of course, no one is telling you that you can’t participate in both ways. Start your beards, gentlemen; on game day shave that bushiness into a mustache, make yourself one of these, and put that mustache on top of your mustache on every 3rd down. You’ll want to put down your keys and cheer belligerently when you do this.

In summary, my fellow Michigan Mustachateers, by growing mustaches this year we are not stooping down, we are harkening back to an era when the size of your mustache proved your superiority.
We will look down our noses at you, smugly peering over our mustaches. It’s perfectly, arrogantly Michigan.


  1. Didn't Art Schlichter have a moustache?

  2. Oh, I thought you were talking about Michigan women (seeing as they seem to be the only ones that can grow a decent 'tache). You wanna see some thick lip hair, go to a lunch with some middle aged wolverine ladies. Talk about envy.


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