All right now, I've heard enough bullshittin' and bellyachin' from the lot o' you. All this talk 'bout not gettin' enough pussy and shit. Now I've got me an answer for your bitchin' - you got no mustache. That's right, I said it. Ain' nothin' get them panties slick like a big ol' handlebar. Jus' the thought of those coarse hairs rubbin' against that shaved pussy'll make them ladies wish they were wearin' a diaper instead of that black lacey thong.
I've heard the bitchin', and I know what half you gone say. "But I ain' gotta mustache, and I ain' able to grow one." Normally I'd say "Tough shit, go fuck your own asshole with a cucumber, faggot." But that don't work 'cause most of those gays got bigger mustaches than you'll ever be able to grow anyway.
You doubtin' me? Well listen t'this. See, I'm at the bar, restin' casually on my elbow with my sunglasses, gold tooth, and of course Ol' Trusty ridin' my lip. There's some big-tittied blonde in a tube top and Daisy Dukes over in some booth with them silky legs crossed, and she catches a glimpse of the shine off my tooth. I got one hand wrapped around a bottle o' Jack and th' other's thumbin' my belt buckle, puttin' out the prize. Then it’s just a twitch with my upper lip and send that bushy mustache o’ mine wigglin’ an’ she’s on her way over. They all come to me. An' then I'm 'bout ready to make dick-ke-bobs out of that snatch.
If you don't have a 'stache like mine, then you're shit outta luck. She'll come over if you've got a fancy watch, but then she's gonna be askin' questions, an' lemme tell you, talkin' ain' what you want her lips to be doing. If you don't got the money - maybe the watch was a gift - then you're fucked. Comprende?
Movin' along. I got a solution for all y'all that cain't grow a snatch saddle. It ain't gonna be easy, it's gone hurt like a bitch, but when you're bathin' in the pussy juice, you won't have anything to complain about. Now sit the goddamned-piss-fuck down and listen in.
Simple process really, just gonna need a few things. First off, you need a dark living room and a huge ass TV. You need some burgers and fries and chicken wings, but those are just backup. What you really need is a five foot high platter of steak. You're also gonna need some PBR, whiskey, or Coors Lite if you’re a sissy sack of shit. To warm up, I suggest starting with a burger and a porn tape. Something tame, maybe a women's prison with a feisty guard. You gone eat that burger and watch that tape. Then it's on to the heavy stuff. I'm talkin' Ultimate Fighting, I'm talkin' World's Strongest Man, I'm talkin' professional wrestlin' and bowling. You watch that shit, you eat that steak, and you visualize that goddamned mustache growing. You feel those tingles underneath the skin on that lip and you know it's time. PUSH MOTHERFUCKER, PUSH! You give birth to that mustache. You eat that steak, and you grow that 'stache. The pizza and fries are for later. Them's for recovery. I'd recommend six to seven hours of football and hockey.
Now you're ready. Remember what I told you? Lean up against that bar, throw out the sign - belt buckle, gold tooth, whatever - and wait for that big tittied blonde in them Daisy Dukes to start walking over. When she reaches up and tugs and that 'stache and your lip tugs with it, she knows that them pussy-eatin’ handlebars ain’t goin’ nowheres, you’ll have her buck-nekkid on her back in that Motel 6 bed in no time, fuckin’ the shit outt her, and I’ll be there too with my bushy mustache, gold tooth and belt buckle, watchin’ from the corner. You just be sure that when you dump your load in her cum dumpster that you look over and acknowledge me in the armchair, Richard “Dick” DeGraw, the man that got you pussy tonight.