[5 Days to Go] It's UConn Week!

Here's to hoping for a speedy week! No doubt you are pondering how to shape your stache come Saturday. Our rec: Handlebars are in this season.

Remember: email us your photos from GameDay to mustaches4michigan@gmail.com

Grow Blue!

[9 Days to Go] Stache Out

Our series of honorable guest posts continues. Joining Misogopon is MS Paint Ninja, The Shredder of Midnight Maize.

Enter The Shredder:

Click for Larger Image

Now that's something we could get behind. Genius as always, Shreds.

And just cause, here's another Shredder classic -- Go, ninja, go ninja, go!

[12 Days to Go] Mustaches R People 2, Ya Know.

So... um, yeah. We were kinda absent last week. Here's the thing -- don't judge, ok? -- we have lives and families and work... so so much work. And sometimes, when forced with the harsh reality of our real-world obligations and penning a post for Mustaches for Michigan, the man under the beard, well he's gotta do what he's gotta do. Apologies...

But our beards still flourish!

Seriously, it's like a dammed jungle on our faces. I found a rare species of orchid that cures cancer in there. But, sadly, it was destroyed by poachers.

Theres' been a lot going on with the team. Woolfolk's injury; Tate's wings; panic; BTN Preview; birds and snakes and aeroplanes, Lenny Bruce is not afraid. And our team needs mustaches now more than ever. So continue that growth, sir. Despite our absence in posting, we are still growing mustaches for Michigan. And our faith in the power of the 'stache has never been stronger. Those whiskers on your upper lip, come September fourth, will unite with your fellow mustachers and send a current into the cosmos: each Mustache for Michigan gives our cause more strength -- we will be victorious against the Huskies! "Hail. Hail to the Victors!" says our mustaches. And goddammit, they're right.

If you were worried about our Defense (and we are too), check out Mouton's Beard. It's effing stout, man. That's very telling...

(HT: MGoBlog, of course)

Keep the faith, we'll see you in twelve days.

[17 Days to Go] Mustaches Do A Body Good

“Got Milk?” remains one of the most famous advertising campaigns of all time.  Touting health benefits like building strong bones, preventing cavities, repairing muscles, and even maintaining healthy hair, skin, and nails, there is just something about these ads that is irresistible.

But what is the real secret to their success?  You tell us.  Is it the Milk or the Mustache? 

            

[18 Days to Go] BabyStache Answers Revealed!

Thanks again to Misopogon, who heard the call of the Mustache and answered with the grace and wit which we have come to expect from a MMM  (Mustached Michigan Man).

If you've got post you'd like to submit, don't be shy.  Pick up those pens and put down those razors, then send them along to  mustaches4michigan@gmail.com

Without further ado, here is the answer key to "Name That BabyStache:"

[19 Days to Go] Name That BabyStache

The first Guest Post of the 2nd Annual Mustaches for Michigan Movement is proudly presented here and written by Misopogon -- yes, that Misopogon of the Decimated Defense fame.

Enter Misopogon:

It takes more than a nice system, the best uniform in sports, and the biggest stadium in America to win championships, Big Ten or otherwise. There has always been one key ingredient for winning at football: talent for playing football.

This mystical "talent" comes from scouting 18-year-olds across the nation, then wooing them to enroll in your school with promises of free tuition and room and board* (and maybe the keys to any car in a Columbus dealership).

--------------------
* Some schools not associated with the SEC may even honor these promises.
--------------------

But recruiting is a bit of a crap-shoot. I mean, you're looking at 18-year-olds here. There are far too many instances of high school standouts becoming college flops, so much breeding-stock man-meat, so many specimens worthy of panting from grown men, who (the recruits) end up with school profiles reading "working hard to earn playing time." So how, really, can a program separate the men from the boys?

Well, sometimes there are early signs of greatness, metrics if you will. Like how fast he runs the 40-yard-dash in Faerie Dream World, or by measuring the total volume of salivation from camp attendees, or...I dunno guys, is there something about these kids that might hint there is potential for greatness beyond?

Maybe the signs are already there. Let's look at some Michigan men from before they were Michigan Men (TM), and see if we can spot anything that might suggest there's more to these guys than what excites Tom Lemming...

Of course, not every mustached high schooler ends up summarily awesome in college. From 2002 to 2009 I found five or six guys out of 40 with high school mustaches who weren't All-Americans, NFL players, All-Big Ten, or extremely valuable, or did not generally meet or exceed expectations.

Five or six....out of FORTY!

People: Imagine two recruiting classes (or one if you're Houston Nutt), in which you bring in 40 athletes, of whom all but five or six "pan out." Now imagine two entire recruiting classes with mustaches! That would be, like, a million Rose Bowls or something!

The recruiting sites can talk speed and statistics and prison abs till all of their five-stars 'go blue'**. But if you're looking for a features that will guarantee wins, take a cue from the winning-est school in college football history -- you know, the one that has painted a big maize mustache on its forehead for over 70 years: the secret to scouting is right under your nose.

fin.

--------------------
** Lord willing

/ Misopogon

Check back tomorrow morning for the BabyStache answer sheet...

[21 Days to Go] Umm... Sure?

The problem with increasingly inexpensive consumer camcorders, editing software, and the social networking culture of Facebook and Twitter is that everyone feels the need to express themselves -- nay, they feel a sense of entitlement. My voice is unique* and it deserves to be heard!

The upshot is for a low-traffic weekend post, we can type 'mustache' into the YouTube search bar and get this:

So, yeah, there ya go. Mustaches 'n stuff. How, um,  informative. Thanks redheaded YouTube girl wearing far too much eyeshadow!

*Who told you that? Your Mother! Man, you need to listen to Tyler Durden.

[22 Days to Go] Friday the 13th Gets Hairy

Members of the Mustaches for Michigan Movement:

Chhhchhhchhh-Kaakaakaa-StacheStacheStache...

Happy Friday to you all. And don't let the Friday the 13th thing give you the creeps. It's just an ordinary average friday. The only sort of superstition we believe in is that of our mustaches and their power to influence the outcome of sporting events. All other beliefs involving cats or cracks or umbrellas or whathaveyou is just plain silly.

Next week the Friday Weekly Round-Ups begin! So make sure you snap a quick pic of that beard and send it to us at mustaches4michigan@gmail.com. We want to see all of your beautifully bearded faces.

There is only three more weeks until Football Eve. Those of you who have gotten a late start on your growth, fear not! There is still time. There's also still time to rope in your buddies so you're not the only jackass at your local Alumni bar or section in the Big House with an inexplicable mustache....

If there was only a way you could somehow indicate that your mustache was a Mustache for Michigan. We are toying around with the idea of designing a T-Shirt. If that's something that interests you, please let us know. Email us at mustaches4michigan@gmail.com.

And lastly, we leave you with a link that you should definitely check out. Thanks to Mustachio'er Kevin Haworth for tipping us off to this awesome photo gallery of mustaches from a time period when men were men, a large mustache was a symbol of stature and power, and John Steinbeck looked like House: GO HERE NOW. If you come across anything you find mustache-worthy, don't hesitate to send it our way: mustaches4michigan@gmail.com.

Follicularly Yours,

Mustaches For Michigan.

Grow Blue!

[23 Days to Go] The Ladies, The 'Stache, The Hazards of Love.

Old Spice Commercial Guy knows what's up: Your lady wants you to grow a mustache.

Now, she might claim otherwise but she knows deep down that there's some crazy attraction going on with the 'stache. For you, Mustaches for Michigan Member, this is a happy by-product. You get to guide your team to victory through the cosmic powers of your mustache AND your lady cannot resist you? Score, brother. Your mustache cancels out her headaches. This is what we like to call a Win-Win. Remember Newton's Law of Moustaches? Lemme remind you:

Mustache = Win.

Well when it comes to the opposite sex, this too holds true. But don't take our word for it.  Take Old Spice Commercial Guy's. Although, we can't speak to the body wash he endorses.

NOTE: If you do not already have a special ladyfriend who has come to find you generally repulsive and withholds sex, reorganizes your living space so that you can never find anything, and makes plans for you which she will tell you about the night of, then worry not, Young Mustachio'er. When you go out looking for the ladies rocking a mustache, you will easily find a young mistress who will gladly ask you to take out the garbage while telling you to never again wear your favorite shirt because of the armpit stains. But know this: Using a mustache to attract a mate requires that you be a gentleman at all times: you will be respectful and responsible. Go forth and be conquered. 

[24 Days To Go] Let Your Mustache Move to the Music

In the fall of 1898, Louis Elbel composed “The Victors.” Legend has it that he was inspired to do so by a Michigan's rousing last-minute victory over Western Conference foe Chicago. Said account, however charming, is less than historically accurate. This is immediately clear to anyone enlightened enough to recognize the transcendental significance of the song itself. Mere inspiration had nothing to do with its penning. Inspiration is nothing. No. A far greater power was at work that magical day. It was an act of the supernatural. It was…

Louis Elbel, circa 1898

The Mustache. Yes, Louis Elbel’s mustache is responsible for what John Philip Sousa called “the greatest college fight song ever written.” Sousa wrote "The Stars and Stripes Forever." Sousa was known as "The March King." Sousa, too, understood the power of the mustache.

John Philip Sousa, Man with Mustache

Over the years, "The Victors" has inspired millions; Elbel's mustache, perhaps, millions and millions more—in particular, one Madonna Louise Ciccone. As a University of Michigan student in the mid-seventies, Madonna happened upon Elbel’s visage at the University’s School of Music. There was just something about it. The image stuck with her long after her time in Ann Arbor, inspiring her creative process going forward.

Madonna, During the Creative Process

According to countless in the recording industry, throughout the 80’s and 90’s, Madonna would forgo shaving during the recording process as it would allow for a more “transcendental experience with the music.” Her words. A rep for the artist stated, “the mustache and the mustache alone is responsible for ‘Like a Virgin,’ ‘Material Girl’ and ‘Vogue,’ among many others.”

Imagine: a world without the hallowed lyrics, "It's called a dance floor, and here's what it's for...Vogue, let your body move to the music...Vogue, let your body go with the flow. You know you can do it." Without these, it's quite possible that to this very day no one-NO ONE-would have any idea what a dance floor is, in fact, for. Moreover, on the off chance someone ever did figure it out, a highly unlikely scenario to be sure, would he or she have been so bold? Would he OR she (remember, per the mustached songstress, "it makes no difference...if you're a boy or a girl") have been so inclined to use said dance floor in such a manner without being so positively implored "you know you can do it?" In a word, no.

A world without dancing is no world at all. Hail to the mustache, without which the dance floors would be empty.

[25 Days to Go] Danny Hope, You Give Mustache a Bad Name

You know we give credit where credit is due. We love to laude those that rock the mustache. We've said it before: Every 'stache is sacred. Sometimes, though, even purity can be spoiled. There is always a dark side, an unholy underbelly. There is always a villain.

We've discussed the power of the mustache. It can embue the wearer with great strength. But, like the Nazi's with the Arc of the Covenant, sometimes this mighty power gets into the wrong hands. No, we're not talking about the poor, mistreated, lice infested Buckstache. Ohio State fans are too stupid to be evil. We are talking about a quiet darkness that has been growing in West Lafayette, Indiana. Quiet because, well, who gives a shit about Purdue?*

Joe Tiller created a giant douche in his likeness: Danny Hope. 

Recently, though, Danny Hope has given the Michigan Fan a reason to despise Purdue through his acts of supreme douchiness. There was the post-game handshake shenanigans last year. There was the "our players take real classes" comment, which was pretty douchey. Not as douchey as exhibiting extremely poor sportsmanship. I mean, c'mon, Danny, what did you hope to achieve by bringing a 300 lb Offensive Lineman to the post-game handshake? Not only are you insinuating that Rich Rodriguez was at fault for the player's prior suspension but it's also as a physical threat to Rodrigeuz himself. Danny Hope, as my grandmother would say, you're a bad actor.

Normally, we'd embrace a little fuel to what is usually a perennially stomping -- that is, of course, when we aren't fielding our worst teams in school history. Good on ya for winning two in a row, Purdue. BFD -- with a little bit of good-natured sporting. If the head coach's douchiness puts a little more spice in the match-up, hell, we love a good "take that douchenozzle!" retribution. If it gets our players "up" and makes the usual shellacking of a Big Ten doormat more interesting, great.

Here's our problem: Danny Hope makes the mustache look bad by association. Danny, we know you're a spectacular tool. We know that you aren't going to change. But do you have to do it with a mustache? Shave or something. Yes, you're evil, we get it. Grow a goatee already.

So can we summarize this post with a tangential Star Wars reference? Sure can! Basically, Danny Hope is Greedo. He is a bad guy who threatens our hero. Do we care who shot first? No. Do we care that Han Solo kills him? Not really. I mean, sure, one less bad guy and all, but, like Purdue, who gives a shit about Greedo?

Danny, you tremendous d-bag, you give mustache a bad name.

*Except for exceptionally bright engineering students. Respek. Told ya, we give credit where credit is due.

[26 Days to Go] Troy Woolfolk Has A Hairy Secret

Harold Howard

Butch Woolfolk

“An explanation is probably long overdue.”

“An explanation? Jesus Christ, dad! An explanation? Look at me! Look at you.”

“It's not as bad as it looks.”

MJF

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, dad. You mean you knew about this? You knew about this and you didn't tell me?”

“I was hoping I wouldn't have to. Sometimes it skips a generation. I was hoping it would pass you by.”

“Well, Dad it didn't pass me by. It landed on my face.”

T-Wolf

"I’m going to introduce you all to something. Y’all know me, myself, Troy, but I have a split personality named T-Wolf. When I’m on the field, T-Wolf comes out.”

"Then they saw the blood on my glove," he said. "He was like 'Oh, it must be just a nail that got torn back or something.' So like I took it off slowly and I saw the bone sticking out. I was like, 'Oh, jeez.' I wanted to put it back on and act like nothing happened. ... You can ask the people.  I was mad because they were rushing up to me trying to touch it, and I don’t want nobody to touch my bone sticking out. I was about to punch them with my other hand, but I had to calm T-Wolf down."

"Right now, this is Troy. T-Wolf, he’s crazy and I can’t bring him out all the time, I only let him come out on the field.”

[27 Days to Go] How to Grow a Mustache

And if that doesn't work, there's always Print-a-Stache.

[28 Days to Go] Bradley Whitford's Molestache

We at Mustaches for Michigan love us some Good Guys.

Yes, that's right, Mr. Whitford, the ladies do love the mustache.

[29 Days to Go] What Is The Opposite Of Evil?

We here at Mustaches for Michigan love us some knowledge.  We like to get our learnin’ on, so to speak, and we don’t shy away from throwing down some big words or tackling some complicated issues. We have found that this high-browed strategy tends to ward off the hoi polloi, like those pitiable souls who might mistakenly wander over here from an MSU or Ohio State blog  (Notre Dame, we begrudgingly respect you on this front; howeva, because we can’t just let you off the hook – Potato Famine and the Crucifixion, bam! – We don’t like to pull our punches here either). 

But on whom do we depend to enlighten us on the rare occasion that we encounter an unfamiliar term?  Most seasoned academics would fall back on the venerable Oxford English or Merriam-Webster Dictionaries – trustworthy, factual publications, to be sure.  Sadly, their shared fatal flaw lies in a glacial acceptance of pop culture vernacular, which evolves at such a rapid pace these days that many a definition becomes irrelevant or even erroneous by the time it graces their ivory pages. The great Wikipedia experiment can often be a helpful resource, but the serious scholar must always take its entries with a grain of salt and an obligation to perform second source fact checks, and that’s even before acknowledging the necessity to swallow any expectation of palatable prose.

Where does one turn in this chaotic new world of information over-saturation?  Fear not, gentle student, one need look no further than the renowned Urban Dictionary.  Who else is going to give you the truth when you need to know the underlying meaning behind a hot co-worker’s proclivity towards wearing white pants?  In what other forum can you find the definition of trusticles, the rule of half-your-age-plus-seven, and an explanation of your sister’s alleged favorite new recreational activity – the Eifel Tower – all in one convenient location? 

How then, our Mustached compatriots, does this erudite lexicon define our common purpose?  The answer may not surprise you:

           

Mustache

1.     The source of all righteous power; the facial hair style of the sophisticated man or woman. 

Antonym:  Evil

1)    The power of the mustache will save us from the ultimate evil!

2)   Wow!  What a great mustache!

2.     A universal icon representing the epitome of authority and raw manhood.  It graces small children the chance to believe in a hero and causes evil-doers to second guess their existence.  There are very few things in this world that could ever achieve the divine status that each individual hair is birthed into.  Resting just above the upper lip, the mustache is a beacon to all mankind that there is hope for this world and a bright future for all who have been gifted with this treasure from God himself.

1)    When I grow up I want a mustache like that.

2)    Think you can handle this mustache?  I don’t think so …

3.     Essentially the same as the English use of “cheers.” Can be used in place of goodbye, thank you, congratulations, etc.

Jennifer:  “Did you hear my essay was selected for publication?”

Bob:  “Well done.  Mustache.”

[30 Days to Go] Tales From The Lip

They pack their cold cuts on top of the beer in  their styrofoam coolers. This makes sense, assuming that the sandwiches are consumed before the ice melts. Of course, though, the day wears on, hands reach in the cooler for more and more beer and soon the cheap plastic baggies are now resting crumpled in a watery grave. If the stale stench of cheap beer wasn't enough, the soggy bread will get smeared -- and stuck, regrettably, in the crevasses -- in their mustaches when they do get 'round to eating the packed lunch. This is a dreadful experience, these Saturdays, trust me.

These Humans are a repulsive sort, the ones that dress in red and grey and worship the "O." I have yet to figure out how the acorn and marijuana leaf fits into the mythology of their religion. They gather in large groups on Saturdays in the Fall. They practice their faith seasonally, which seems to me a lazy sort of belief system. But I'm not complaining, no, it's this time of year when things are for the worst. Year round, it's no picnic with these people, but it is especially trying when they begin their rituals by gathering to drink beer and shout at the television in parking lots. And don't get me started on the bizarre mating call which displays their minimal proficiency at spelling.

Your species in general, though -- and please, do not take this personally, I don't mean it as a condemnation, particularly when you add in my role in all of it -- can be small minded and petty. You place far too much emotional importance upon your warriors and the battles they do against the other tribes on these fall weekends. And the beer. So, so much beer. I cannot begin to describe the awful smell that stays on you, the rank odor of your breath. It is particularly bad with the O worshipers.

As far as hygiene goes for you Humans, I have the misfortune of living among the worst. It is not only hygiene that is a concern -- and I say this with the full knowledge that the hygiene of, say, the M followers, would impede the delicate balance of my living arrangement -- it is the diet of this trollish brood. Fried foods mostly. Lots of frozen dinners, too. Whatever is easiest to get stuck in their mustaches, thats the type of food they eat. Crumbs, yes, but grease too. Grease is essential to keeping bits of food lodged in mustaches.

Why am I complaining? Well, I know a thing or two about mustaches, believe me. From big bushy mustaches like Wilford Brimley's to the thin pencil mustache of Arsenio Hall. You see a mustache is a thing of beauty and it should be well kept and groomed at all times. I've heard a name for the O worshiper's mustaches: the Buckstache. Does that sound right?

Ugh, the Buckstache. 

Anyway, it should come as no surprise to anyone that knows about this tribe, they don't respect anything -- why should they respect the 'stache? They mistreat this gift of the upper lip. This buckstache is an abused bit of facial hair, like a mangy dog -- perhaps an ironic metaphor, but don't put mange on us, man. The buckstache, it is no place to make a home. But I guess, at the end of the day, if you can get past the poor behavior of the humans whose hair we inhabit, we do make for a good match. I mean, can you imagine lice in the sweet, glorious, and lavender scented mustache of a M follower? I can't either.

[DON'T FORGET: Send us your weekly progress photos to mustaches4michigan@gmail.com.  Round-ups are posted Fridays]

[31 Days To Go] Jon Stewart Knows Something About 2010

Jon Stewart likes vacations: it seems that every other time we tune into the Daily Show, they're in the midst of a 2 week hiatus.  So when Stewart & Co. exited this past July for a little rest and relaxation, we weren't surprised.  And when he returned last week with a nice little tan, we weren't surprised at that, either.  Good for you, Jon.  Good for you.

But what's this?  What's that stuff on your chin?  And underneath your nose?  Is that a goatee?

Why, yes. Yes, it is.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Jon's White Beard
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Tea Party

And what's more, it's just in time for August?  Is that right?  Hmmm...  It doesn't take a totally biased, dyed-in-the-wool, rabidly Maize and Blue fan to read in between the lines.  Seriously, it's like totally obvious.  We're picking up what you're laying down for us, Jon.

So if you're on the fence about joining The Movement (why would you be?!) or you're not quite sure if you can pull it off (dude, you probably already look like a jackass), ponder this:

It's 2010, year 3, do or die.  We need you.  And fucking Jon Stewart is in.  He obviously knows something.

[DON'T FORGET: Send us your weekly progress photos to mustaches4michigan@gmail.com.  Round-ups are posted Fridays]

[32 Days to Go] - "The Mustache Changed My Life"

Every once in a great while, a mustache comes along that changes the course of history.  Slipping the surly bonds of ironic fashion statements, or even honest grooming choices, these mystically macho mustaches stare Fate in the face and scream, “Fuck you!  I refuse to play the cards you have dealt me!” before flipping the saloon table over and unloading a six-shooter into every gathered participant.

Behold this mustachioed outlaw, riding off into the sunset with a bulging sack of loot and a busty barmaid hogtied to his saddle!  Who is this mysterious marauder?  Where does this conquistador come from, who vanquishes all in his path and claims whatever he desires? Where does he get the balls to play by his own rules, many of you may have wondered?  Well, just ask John Stossel …

“The mustache changed my life,” he says. “I had always looked younger.  When I was 21, I looked like a teenager.  When I was 19, I looked 14 – and it sucked.”  Stossel …  grew his signature ‘stache back in the ‘70’s, around the time Burt Reynolds had his in “Smokey and the Bandit,” and even before Tom Selleck was “Magnum P.I.”

            Ah, what a magnificent, bristling paradise that chapter in time must have been. When Men were Men, free to express their masculinity with a glorious lip sweater – a yardstick, if you will, whereby strangers could size up their virility and social status.  Woe have our hairy kindred been these past few decades that the crumb catcher has lived in exile, its tradition only carried on by the rural W.T. who couldn’t grow a decent ‘stache if their mothers had laced their Captain Crunch with Rogaine! …  But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?  It is a Mustache, and John Stossel is the sun.

Stossel knows that mustaches have fallen in and out of favor – and he doesn't really care. "I have heard that it had gone out of style, but if you hold on to something long enough, it'll come back," Stossel says.

This is clearly a man of character and conviction.  He’s not going to be swayed by the fickle winds of pop culture.  Like a 1972 Gran Torino, his mustache stands the test of time. 

So many years into a TV career that has earned him 19 Emmy Awards, it's an asset because it gives him a recognizable look, he says. People pass him on the street – even when he's riding his bike, complete with helmet – and say, "There's John Stossel."

Last year, we embarked on a journey that spanned the entire nation and the outer limits of good taste. We risked it all – put our balls to the wall, our mustaches where our mouths were, and we were rewarded beyond our bushiest imaginations.  You, our Mustached Brethren, joined us in this Noble Movement.  Again we impeach you, our fair Michigan Men, to spread the word of our Cause.  Like Stossel, we will show a unified front of unmistakable recognition.  As if to say, “Yeah, I’m a Michigan Man, you got a problem with my mustache, motherfucker?  Because I believe in Rich Rodriguez, and Tate Forcier, and Dilithium.  I believe in perfectly quaffed silver hair, and wolf trainers, and Brock Mealer.”  And all the doubters and cynics and haters will at last be proven wrong, and you’ll have an awe-inspiring I-Told-You-So sprouting victoriously from your fucking Face.  Because it’s our coming out party, baby, and the mustache rides are free.  Let’s get our goddamn swagger back!

[33 Days to Go] A Call To Upper Lips!

The day is the 2nd of August in the year of our Lord Two Thousand and Ten, the day which the growth of Beards is already twice removed from shaving.

Ye hath been given your quest: Grow a Mustache for Michigan. 

Welcome to the 2nd Annual Mustaches for Michigan effort. If you're here, that means you, my friend, have opted to take part in something bigger than yourself. Bigger than that glorious 'stache can ever get -- bigger even than the dude with that giant mustache in Tombstone and The Big Lebowski. You are here because you, like so many other Michigan Football fans, have proclaimed "Mustache be thine Savior, lead us to a victory against UConn on September 4th!"

So make yourself comfortable, we've got 33 days until kickoff. You've got some time to get your beard on. Each day at Mustaches For Michigan you will find new content to help the Dog Days of August pass. What we generally do not do is break news, or give analysis on Football -- there are already blogs out there that do it better than we ever could; they're linked on the sidebar. We exist because we are a community of Michigan Football faithful whose fandom knows no bounds: Growing a mustache in support of an athletic team makes complete sense to us. 

Because we are a community -- a Mustaches for Michigan Collective -- we love to see you supporting the cause. Send us your photos of that blossoming beard, brother. Each week, Friday's most likely, we will post a Weekly Round-Up of our Beards in Progress. Snap a quick pic on Thursdays and send em to us a mustaches4michigan@gmail.com. 

And don't forget to spread the word. The more mustaches grown in favor of Michigan, the better our chances at bringing home that victory on Sept. 4. That is a fact. There is data somewhere to be found which verifies it. To simplify it for you (I think it's even one of Newton's Laws): Mustache = Win. The more mustaches the bigger the win. And you want Michigan to win, don't you? Monty Python God forbid that we crawl away with a loss to UConn, well if you didn't do your part by participating in our Mustaching Efforts* then the blame rests squarely upon your bald and quivering upper lip. Good luck sleeping at night, jerkoff. But you're here, and you're not a jerkoff (probably). Do spread the word, though. Tell your friends. We're on Facebook. Tell those friends too. We're also on Twitter. 

You have heard the call to upper lips! Do something about it. Get involved. Grow Blue!

Btw, Monty Python God, nice beard. 

*Ladies and Men who are unable to grow beards and/or Mustaches can still print-a-'sache, so theres' no excuse! 

[34 Days to Go] - Ulysses Walked With Wolverines

It little profits that an idle fan           

Near this dark tv,  among these skeptics

Match’d with aged buddies,  I mete and dole

Unequal expectations on Rich Rod,

Who strives,  plans,  and coaches,  and knows not me.


I cannot rest from internets,  I drink

Life to the lees:  all times I have enjoy’d

Greatly,  have suffer’d greatly,  both with those

That loved me,  and alone:  on couches,  floor.

The angry Michigan hating-God dash’d

Budding prospects for a winning season.

For always roaming with a hungry heart

Much have I seen and known:  championships,

And wins,  losses,  coaches,  rivals,  heartbreak.

Myself not least,  but have cheered through them all;

And drunk delight of battle with my peers

In ringing stadiums of the Big Ten.

I am a part of all games I have seen;

Yet great success is a scale whereby we

Weigh our expectations.  An untravell’d,

Unthink’ably black era have we liv’d.

How anguish’d are we to lose:  nay,  flounder?

To fall from mountains,  once-victorious?

As though to win were happiness,  were Life.

Two years pass’d all too tort’uous – misery.

Little remains:  but ev’ry hour is an

Opportunity for something greater.

Coach Rodriguez,  a bringer of new ways,

Claim’d some two Suns to rebuild and retrain,

And this Blue spirit yearning in desire

To chase victory like a sinking star,

In the Biggest House ever known to man.

Hail!  This is my Team,  mine own Wolverines,

For whom I carry my torch and my pride.

Well loved by me,  they labour endlessly

To make tough a doughy people;  through hard

Practice they elevate themselves skyward.

Near blameless is Rod,  centred in the storm

Of lawsuits,  investigations,  char’cter

Assassinations.  In offices of

Schembechler Hall hearths burn late into night.

Whilst  The Game waits,  he works his work,  I mine.

There lies the field;  the Big House near complete;

There stands the empty scoreboard:  new seasons

Await.  My Michigan Men,  souls that have

Toiled,  and wrought,  and fought with me — That e’er

With a frolic welcome took the hardships

And the glory.  You and I are Arr’gant:

Arrogance hath its honour and its toil;

Loss dims it not:  and something ere the End,

Some play of noble note will yet be done,

Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.

The lights begin to twinkle from the Arbor,

The long summer wanes;  the slow clock  ticks,  tocks.

The deep  MGoWeb  moans round with many

Voices.     . . .       Come,  my friends,  ‘tis not too late to

Seek a newer form of facial hair.  Push

Off,  and sitting well in order smite the

Follicles from your cheeks:  for my purpose

Holds to grow a magnanimous  Mustache!!

It may be that the games will wash us down;

It may be we shall touch the crystal ball,

And see the great Yost,  whom we all well knew.

Though much is taken,  much abides;  and though

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven;  that which we are,  we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate,  but strong in will

To  Strive, to  Grow, to  WIN,  and not to yield.

HAIL!  HAIL!

Mustaches For Michigan!!

Pillaging again this August …