Living the mustached American lifestyle

It's that time of the year again. As the leaves turn to brown and my upper lip begins to chill in the cool fall breeze, my mind always turns to the greats. Men like Keith Hernandez, the Mario Brothers, Robert Goulet, and Adolf Hitler. Many could argue the greatness of them as men; Hitler is one of the most evil men in history and the Mario brothers have brutally murdered millions of turtles; but nobody can argue the greatness of their mustaches.

Gary was always such a lucky bastard

I'm pretty sure I've helped Mario kill more than 6 million turtles and mushrooms myself.

For those looking for more information on what was voted the most stylish facial hair of 1976 check out the American Mustache Institute at americanmustacheinstitute.org/Default.aspx. It includes history of the stache, different styles available to your upper lip, and even an opportunity to nominate someone (probably someone other than Hitler) for this year's Mustached American of the Year.

Check back later for GandR's newest film short, the Evolution of a Mustache, currently in production.

Snake Attack

Last weekend I was following my regular routine of using beef jerky or chewing tobacco (Redman works best because of it's addictiveness) to catch perch on a small hook before sticking a larger hook through it's eyes and using it as bait to catch bass.After a while I noticed a small fish that had gotten tangled up in the banks on the far side of the quarry I was fishing, and, being the animalitarian I am, I had my fishing buddy keep an eye on my rod while I went over to help free the fish. I also had him watch my fishing pole, and while I climbing through the weeds he hooked and later lost what he said was the largest bass he'd seen. "Easily five pounds," he said. By the time I reached where the trapped fish had been, it was gone, and I assumed it had freed itself and was getting ready to hit my bait so I hurried back to fish. When I got back the fish was back up in the brush, this time a little further up the bank. At first I thought it may just be messed up on the tobacco I'd been fishing with but soon saw there was a large snake wrapped around it. I went back for a closer look and took these pics. I wasn't as scared as I normally would be around such a large snake (or a small one) and figured it'd have to spit the fish out of his mouth before attacking.

You can see the fish's fin and body coming out the snake's mouth. It's hard to see with the glare but the fish is at least foot long, which means the snake is six or seven feet long.

I showed some experts at the local animal control the picture and they assured me it wasn't the copperhead I though it was and rather a harmless, venomless, water snake. I think maybe that's what they're telling themselves to avoid having to go after it and am in the process of forming a vigilante posse of snake hunters so the women and children of the area can feel safe again. Let me know if you want in, I'm currently taking applications to join my snake-hunting force. In the words of Sir Ernest Shackleton: "Men wanted: For hazardous journey. Small wages, bitter cold, long months of complete darkness, constant danger, safe return doubtful. Honor and recognition in case of success."

Cover Songs

I love cover songs almost as much as I hate cover bands. It seems like I can't go anywhere on a weekend without hearing the blaring of some crappy band covering some crappy Van Halen song. As if the original didn't suck bad enough on it's own. Let me get back to my point, I'm saving my "Why I hate Van Halen" post for another time. They completely ruined jumping and wearing tight red pants for me.

I posted a playlist of some of my favorite cover songs ever, I know I'm probably forgetting a lot of good ones. Hope you enjoy - maybe you can get a break from staring at the Van Halen brothers' abs to let me know some of the great cover songs I missed.

Labor Day?

Labor day is great. Unless you have to work on it. I had no idea why we, or most of us, get this day off so I looked it up on one of my favorite websites not devoted to pictures of Erin Andrews, Wikipedia. Apparently it was first passed through as a US holiday by President Grover Cleveland as an attempt to reconcile with the labor unions after he had unconstitutionally sent in the US Army to break up a strike in Chicago that ended with 13 strikers dead and another 57 wounded. Some people also see it as the end of summer, others as the beginning of another football season for sideline reporter Erin Andrews.

Expectations were high for the Chiefs on Labor Day of 1991.

I like to think of Labor Day as my last opportunity to wear white pants. My father, however, ignores any fashion laws and kicks it in white sneakers 12 months a year. I hope everyone had a great Labor Day, enjoy your final days of summer, beginning of football season, or support for your local union, whichever way to choose to celebrate it.

The best thing to come out of my Labor Day this year.

Happy Birthday

Today is my older sister's birthday. I used to give her a hard time about getting older but at 29 1/2 I'm starting to feel her pain. Especially in my hips. I think this family picture says a lot, I love how pissed she looks. I don't remember but I guess she wasn't much of a Star Wars fan. She later got her revenge by dressing me up as a ballerina, which is just one of many strange pictures in my mom's photo album. Another is of my dog Radar feeding a litter of kittens, but that's a story for another time. Here are a couple of the pictures she's taken over the past few years. Happy birthday Brook.

Dublin, Ireland

Mumbai, India

Santiago, Chile

AfE Songs of the Month

I've finally figured out how to put some music onto AfE, and even though it's now September, I've update the playlist.com player located on the sidebar with my top 20 songs of August. Check back later in the month for the best to come out of (or finally be discovered by me) during the coming months.

AfE Fishing Expedition: Day 7

Thinking back at this year's 4th of July, even almost two months after the fact, it's hard to rate it out of my top few, and I've had some great independence days.

The morning started with a five hour hike that was stopped at the threat of a downpour that never really materialized into anything more than a drizzle. Unfortunately this was enough to ruin most of the the normally abundant supply of firewood, but fortunately I was along side a fire builder skilled enough to make Bear Grylls piss himself, and not just because he was trapped in a desert and needed to keep his core temperature down.
The rain held off for most the afternoon and evening, which allowed us to spend the remaining part of the day fly-fishing and holding a shooting competition in which the loser had to take a pull from the flask of Jameson after each round. Whoever said drinking and firearms don't mix is full of crap, I think guns and whiskey make a great combination. Of course no 4th was complete with blowing some stuff up, so as the fire was being built I began work on a mini teepee filled with m-80's and small pine cones. Needless to say the M-80's won the Battle of the Beartooth Wilderness.

As the sun dropped behind the Rockies the sky opened up and forced us into our tents to prepare for our final ascent to Bridge Lake and a meal that wasn't made up a some combination of canned foods. Or so we thought.