Lia refuses to let me grow a mustache, and for good reason: they look bad on my face. I mean bad. Not bad meaning good, but bad meaning bad.
She says they scratch her face. She also says that they erase the little handsome-ness I do possess and replace it with a major overdose of shady-ness. Two decent reasons, which is why I do not grow a mustache even though I am so attracted to the idea of them. I mean, come on, mustaches are cool...at least that's my idea of the people who can wear them well.
The truth is I wear them poorly. Even my wife looks better in one than me. After this picture, she told me to get this one off my face immediately.
So I did.