Today’s Mustache of the Day: Clay Zavada of the Arizona Diamondbacks and his award winning cunnilingus-bumper.

HAPPY MUSTACHE WEDNESDAY MOTHERFUCKERS!!! (HT: Chris.)

Due to overwhelming reader requests, we have no choice for our Mustache of the Day. Josh Hull of Penn State, you truly are the people’s choice. (Click to embiggen.)

HAPPY MUSTACHE WEDNESDAY, MOTHERFUCKERS!!!

R.I.P, Cap’n Lou. We’ll always remember you from the glory days of wrestling, but your work as Mario suits our purposes a bit more precisely for Wednesdays.

Sad Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers. Captain Lou Albano, seen here as Mario, is dead.

Lou got money, but you shouldn’t be surprised. Men with mustaches rake it in at a rate higher than lesser, non-mustachioed men.

Good morning, sugartits. Your Mustache of the Day today: Mel Gibson.

Happy Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers! Except for the Jews, of course.

Your mustache of the day? Landry Jones, of course. Ahem:

Devil without a cause
And Im back with the beaver hats
And Ben Davis slacks
30 packs of Strohs
30 pack of hoes

If there were going to be a quarterback in the United States who should by right take the field with a mike while screaming “MY NAME IS KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIID” before launching into a triumphant, stomping version of “Bawitdaba,” it is Landry Jones. Happy Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers!

Meet Ambrose Everett Burnside: Union Army general, inventor of sideburns (seriously), and possessor of one fine and fluffsome ’stache for the ages.

Happy Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers!

Someone always, just always has to be different, don’t you?

Happy Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers!

(HT: Awkward Family Photos.)

Your mustache of the day is: Taylor Potts, Texas Tech.

Happy Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers!

(HT: Chris.)

If the good Doctor is going to post the regular, unedited Coltstache, we can’t simply do the same.

He does occasionally look like he should be yelling out “STEEEEEMPY!!! YOU IDIOT!” and this is an undeniable universal truth of the cosmos.

Mike Hartline wants you to meet his mustache. We call this one “The Syrian Exchange Student,” and it must be immensely popular since it has its own Facebook group and everything. It just looks so lost and helpless out there on his face, doesn’t it, standing out there in the hallway in those overly pleated pants pulled way too far up on its waist? Help it find third-period trigonometry, the poor thing.

Later, the mustache will get handsy with you at a dance and proclaim its undying love before getting stalk-y for a few weeks just like all exchange students do, but they do love differently in the rest of the world. It’s a devoted, molest-y kind of love. How’s that different than the kind of love we practice, you ask? We can afford better surveillance equipment, that’s how it’s different.

(Still later, the Syrian exchange mustache will go through an awkward hip-hop phase. You should defriend him by this period.)