Move over girls, it’s Movember

As the cold creeps in, the upper lip gets furry.

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While the moustache can say many things about a man (mysterious, sexy, mature, artsy), it can also scream pervert, or… douchebag, or… Poirot.

With the dawn of November, many things become more bleak. As evenings get darker and the cold creeps in, the scenes at happy hour will be of nothing but sorry-looking social-smokers rolling with their trembling, bony little fingers as they brave the weather in sad desperation.

The library clientele will expand as the terrifying idea of actually working begins to set in, while the gym goers will dwindle as many shall become better acquainted with the chocolate section of their local convenience stores… And when we thought perhaps there was the chance of finding ourselves someone to keep the bed warm during this miserable month, we were wrong – that’s right, it’s Movember!

Enter the fluffy, fuzzy, sometimes-prickly, upper lip lurker to revolt and repel you from any potential play.

Everywhere we look we shall be offended by sights of the facial hair centre-piece in its many different forms.

Some creative sorts will attempt fashion theirs in “comedic” shapes, whilst other may be seen peacocking their magnum PI’s and showing up those who attempt to muster up enough testosterone in vain, only to produce some prepubescent bumfluff.

Yet, I fear these “lady-ticklers” will do no such thing, for I, and many of my fellow female students will testify- moustaches are not sexy.

Slander aside, we must be fair to the boys who sportingly grow their moustaches, primarily as a very noble, charitable gesture- to raise awareness for prostate cancer and testicular cancer.

Well-done lads.

And finally, I feel credit should be given to the unsung heroes of Movember, the few, fearless girls who truly will TASH ON with these poor fools.