Hitler/Chaplin Mustache Diary; A Social Experiment

May 8th 2013

Prologue

I've decided to grow a hitler mustache. My logic is, why should we let one jerk ruin a style for everyone else forever. Besides, he wasn't always a nazi. He was an artist for a while. I also thought about getting a hat to go with it, but I think I would probably look like a sideshow barker or an emcee at a gay nightclub. You can call it a charlie chaplain if that hits the ear better, but then I would almost definitely need the hat. In any case, when it grows in, it's gonna be tight. When people see it, they're gonna be all like "yeah, that's tight".

May 9th 2013

So far, I look like a teenage Chicano version of the Pringles mascot. But when it grows in good, that jown' gonna' be sharp. Full-throttle up out ya' eyeballs. Just leave it to beev. Straights up.

May 10th 2013

I conditioned it with pert. and I brushed it a little. That's all. I'm thinking about getting a cane or a big ring to go with it. I also haven't ruled out the hat. We'll see how it goes.

May 13th 2013

This thing is cooler than I ever imagined in my wildest dreams. Also, I think I changed my mind about the hat. I'm thinking maybe like a stove-pipe hat or a top-hat; and sport it with a stripey hang-ten T-shirt like Gidget's boyfriend or Pete Brady used to wear. So, kind of like an Abe Lincoln/Moondoggie vibe. That's hot.

May 14th 2013

As the master of etiquette that I am, I consulted several mustache manuals to find the proper name for my new mustache friend. It is also known as "the toothbrush", "the philtrum", "the postage stamp" and eventually "the soul-stache". It was introduced to Germany in the late 19th century by an American Jewish Comedians. Hitler's bunkmate's said he sported the "toothbrush" in WWI trenches because his sergeant made him trim his "kaiser" style mustache because his gas-mask wouldn't fit over it. Rumor has it that Sarge slapped him around a little bit over it. He told his sergeant to go to hell, then sarge had no choice but to kick him squah in the beans. In literary terms, we refer to that as "motivation". That story is most likely fictional, of course. Hitler spent all but 5 weeks of WWI in an Austrian boarding school, coincidentally owned by the Rothschilds. You might not like conspiracies, but they are far more logical than coincidence. The Wall St. financial elite literally built the 3rd reich. So, you do the math.

May 16th 2013

The "skitler" mustache is almost in full effect. One of my girlfriends said yesterday "you need to go ahead and shave that" I told her "you need to go ahead and get in your car and drive home". Nah, for reals, I'm just playin'. She wasn't really one of my girlfriends. She was just some girl I met on hi5. Talkin' about, "I'm 34". I said yeah right. 34-hundred weeks, maybe. 

Anyhoo, all that don't matta'. I axed my mustache how he felt about it and he said he was too legit to quit.

May 28th 2013

I'm starting to look like a cross between LaMont from Sanford & Son and a New York Italian Cop from the 1920's. That's just how cool it is. Some dumb girl at Walmart asked me "is your mustache supposed to look like that?". I said, "are your feet supposed to look like hamburgers with colorful pebbles stuck to the front?" Because a brontosaurus just called and said he wanted his feet back.

June 5th 2013

My fly-ass mustache got lonely, so I decided to grow him a friend. I'm going for that Ike Turner meets Heinrich Himmler look. But for reals, I'm starting to look like the type of cat who dangles someone off the side of a bridge until they tell me where the money's at. Y'all know how I'm all swole' like bautista's  younger slightly fatter cousin. But nah, straights up, I'm a full-time cuddly shuga bear and only a part-time bad-ass mafioso Apache.

June 18th 2013

I now look like Sonny Rollins clone who probably shops at aeropostale. I should roll up on him with a scarf over my mouth all like "Papa!!" and he will be all like "Gone, boy! I don't know you." and then I will whisk away the scarf and reveal my fly trident anchor van dyke and then he will be all like "My Boy!!" and then he will teach me how to kick taint on tenor sax. Then I won't have to deal with y'all no more. I can move to Paris and finally buy that hat I've been thinking about.

June 21st 2013

I don't think I was prepared for the emotional burden of sporting a sweet beard-stache combo. Because I'm sensitive like that. When I get home the first thing I'm gonna do is pick up my guitar. Then the next thing I'm gonna do is put it back down, and probably watch I dream of Jeanie, and eat a bowl of kix. Then after that I might work on the next episode of my podcast for a while. Then after that, hit up my fly stache with some carnauba wax. That's my style. Read it and weep.

June 26th 2013

I had two interesting responses to the splitler soul-stache today.
The first was in a supermarket and I had my hand over my soulpatch with only the toothbrush mustache visible. I could tell that I was legitimately frightening the young lady who was checking out my groceries. Not in an alarming way, just in a general sense of un-comfortabibity.

The second encounter was at a local tavern in which the bartender stated that I had an interesting beard and asked if I was French. I told him that yes, in fact I have several French/Mediterranean ancestors.
(Supposedly Napoleon's illegitimate child who was also Alexandre Dumas half-sibling. It's a long story, bruh. For another time, bruh.) The irony was, if I had actually said I was french and I didn't have the mustache, he probably would not have believed me. Does it lend some credibility? Probably not. Even if it did, that doesn't matter. There was no way for him to know the truth either way. He had to take my word for it.

For the record, I do look a bit like one of the three musketeers.

July 5th 2013

Now that I have my fly tie soul-patch and mustache combo just how I want it, it’s time to say goodbye to the 'stache part. My experiment is now coming to an end and it’s time to get back to my old self. I learned what I needed to learn. It's possible for unique-looking people be even more unique looking, though be it at further risk of isolation. I learned that most regular average folk are contemptuous of interesting people, unless they think it’s part of a joke or some sort of act. Most people are drawn to others who happen to be just as boring, ordinary and unimaginative as they are. Let this experiment serve as reminder; If you're an interesting person, and you have interesting friends and an interesting mate or spouse - you are definitely in the minority. And that is what makes you beautiful.

July 8th 2013

Epilogue

So the toothbrush-hitler/soul-stache is gone, but the soul-patch goatee remains; and I kinda dig it. Now I look a little bit like Magic Johnson.
I would like to one day write a beard diary, but because of my multi-ethnic heritage, I can't ever really grow a full-length lumberjack beard, only a medium-length oil-worker beard. But that's cool. It is always fun being even more interesting than I already am. Even if only for a while.

*Update*

December 15th, 2016

I wrote a beard and afro journal, but I'm not going to publish it. 

It had its moments; such as the small lizard who apparently lived in my fro for a while. And while at the beach a small bird landed on top of my head and got tangled up a little. I tried to help him but the sombitch pecked my finger. 

The theme was a return to nature. 

I called myself "Oscar Wild-man". No combs or clippers for 3 months.

(Yeah, my ish grows fast, y'all. I way overproduce testosterone like that)

I soon realized that people don't respond to beards in an interesting way. Most people either like them or they don't. Plus, they are becoming mainstream again.

I did write down some of the funny stories, so they might make their way into a book of some sort eventually. 

For now, just call me fadeaway scruff.

Skip Pulley