This week Mustache Wednesday pays tribute to a fellow who was taken before his time but still managed to pack more livin’ into 51 years than the rest of us probably could in twice that long: Mexico City-born actor and renaissance hombre Pedro Armendáriz.
Armendáriz got an engineering degree from Cal Poly and variously worked for the railroad, a bilingual magazine, and the Mexican tourism board, but was discovered by a Mexican film director after reciting the monologue from Hamlet to an American tourist; he went on to appear in more than 100 films, including “Fort Apache” and “The Conqueror.” Later in life he was diagnosed with cancer and eventually committed suicide rather than slowly waste away — but not before toughing it out through the production of “From Russia With Love,” in which he plays Kerim Bey, head of Station T in Istanbul and the one man in Turkey who can match James Bond in terms of connections, ladyslaying skills, and sheer badassery.
Below the jump, Armendáriz assists the equally well-mustachioed Francis de Wolff in presiding over the film’s infamous “gypsy catfight” scene. Happy Mustache Wednesday and mee-yoww, motherfuckers. (more…)
We’re having a bit of a moment: tired beyond all belief due to staying up for the better part of two days for the Badwater, exhausted from the effort of staying away from the tables in Vegas, then frazzled by working an East Coast day on West Coast time…we need something, some inspiration, just something to get to the end of the day–
–oh, fuck yes. That will do quite nicely. After the jump, Pryor brilliantly addresses the issue of destroying your own property. (more…)
As a servant to an aging, once-powerful master watching his empire crumble, it is fitting that on the day Florida State President T.K. Wetherell announces the specifics of his retirement, we honor another once-powerful emperor: Genghis “Flippin’” Khan:
Happy Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers!
That’s one rough Asian there. (As opposed to an Asian Ruff.) Yes, that’s safe for work, unlike anything you’ll get from a Google search of “rough Asian.” (HT: RCR.)
Today’s truly choice Mustache of the Day: Florida State’s very own Scott Player.
Player’s middle name is Darwin, something we did not know but are not surprised to hear. He is obviously the next stage of human evolution made flesh. HAPPY MUSTACHE WEDNESDAY, MOTHERFUCKERS!!!
Your mustache of the week comes from the 2009 World Beard and Mustache Championships. Presenting: Feras Afani Rusik’s magnificent Eugene Sandow-stache.
Since you’re owed twice the normal amount of Mustache today due to completely forgetting Mustache Wednesday last week, we give you a rare but deserved repeat today: Wilford Brimley, real cowboy, thespian, and diabeetus disco diva.
Danny Trejo, a.k.a. “Machete,” is your honorary (but late) Cinco de Mayo-themed Mustache Wednesday:
Happy Mustache Wednesday, cabron!
Perhaps best known as Charles Bronson, Salsa Flavor, Trejo’s long streak of playing tough guys was preceded by life as a drug addict and small-time criminal known for street fighting in the nastier bits of Los Angeles before he decided he wasn’t hard enough, went to jail, and then became a boxing champion in two classes WHILE IN PRISON. Boxers are hard anyway, but like anything else it all sounds so much tougher when you put IN PRISON on the end of it, like “It was bad, but I helped myself by bettering myself while working as an administrative assistant fluent in javascript IN PRISON.”
This Wednesday’s Mustache of choice: Alfie, the horse.
Happy Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers!
The first cross-species pick for Mustache Wednesday refuses to allow his handlers to trip the ’stache, as it drives the mares crazy and brings them haters out. (They always do, Alfie.) We haven’t seen a blonde liptopper that magnificent since the Havana Daydreamin’ Buffett, an exact replica of which one can purchase at any Margaritaville for $49.95 with any large drink and fries.
Yo, dawg. In honor of our mentor CPA-ONE: Herbert Kornfeld is our Mustache of the Day.
Suckas always comin’ up 2 me sayin’, damn Dog, we thought you down wit’ tha gangsta rap, not no Chicago VII. I say hell no, I gots mad hate foe that wack hip-hop shit. Hall N’ Oatz, Neily D, that band that supply air: now that’s tha mad slammin’ shit, word dat. Tha H-Dog listens easy, always has, always will.
Happy Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers! We were big fans of our dad’s copy of Chicago 17, ourselves. Peter Cetera was cheated out of an Emmy that year. (more…)
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Orson Swindle and Stranko Montana are two men pushing thirty who should know better than to run a college football blog, but evidently don't. Both graduated from the University of Florida, and both agree that college football is far too important to be left to the professionals.
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