Sunday, September 8, 2013

Jammin' Out!


Guess who just got a front row seat to Huey Lewis and the News at the Hollywood Bowl?


And, yes, you read that right. SEAT. I go see Huey alone. The last thing I need is some hen yapping in my ear while I'm trying to jam out to, "Back in Time." Actually, people talking is why I've "technically" been permanently banned from all Huey Lewis and the News shows. Last concert I was at, some middle-aged bastard kept throwing out band trivia and acted like he was the keeper of Huey Lewis and the News secrets and like he was the ONLY ONE who knew facts about the band. When the band finished playing, "Do You Believe In Love?" this guy declares oh-so matter-of-fact, "This was their first big hit, and one of the reasons it got so popular was because of MTV." So you know what I did?


I was five beers deep. And I might have been high on bath salts. Actually, I was really fucking high on bath salts. I would have made a feast of that asshole had security not pulled me off and kicked me out and said I was permanently banned from all Huey Lewis and the News shows.

But, hey, shit happens. I'm not sweating it. I've got my trusty, go-to disguise: aviator shades, khakis, and a Lacoste polo. I'll just look like 80s James Spader and nobody will be the wiser. THE MAN CAN'T HOLD ME DOWN.


Sunday, September 1, 2013

No Trademark for Me :-(

Mood: furious

So my application to get my mustache trademarked was rejected, and when I called the trademark office to see what the deal was, the girl who I ended up speaking with had a smart mouth and I wanted to punch her in her smug face. She said my 'stache couldn't be trademarked because then it would mean that anybody else who had a mustache would be subject to a fine for infringement and I was all, well, what's the problem, I made the mustache what it is today and that the 80s alone had me to thank for a mustache revival. Then she got all smug and uppity and said, "I don't THINK SO, sir, you are not the only person who had a mustache in the 80s." And then the rage took over, and I WENT. OFF. I said, "Listen, wench, I am Thomas goddamn Selleck, I was on Magnum, P.I. and then I was on Friends and now I am KILLING IT on Blue Bloods, so why don't you shut your smart mouth or so help me god, I WILL DRIVE UP THERE AND SHUT IT MYSELF." Then she hung up. I will seek my revenge.

In other news, I have a date tonight. I plan on giving her the Magnum, P.I. special. And by that I mean I'm gonna bone her. 

Selleck out!

Monday, August 26, 2013

Mustache Maintenance

Mood(s): Fervent, inquiring

I feel like I should write down the tools and steps needed in order to keep my mustache looking like it does. Not trying to be morbid, but I ain't no spring chicken; this is my goddamn legacy. It must live on. DISCLAIMER (to whoever finds this diary after I'm gone): This DOES NOT guarantee your mustache will be as magnificent and all-powerful as mine, but I CAN say it will look a helluva lot better than those hipsters trying to work the Amish look. Hey bozos, unless you live in Pennsylvania Dutch country or time-traveled from the 1800s, GET THAT SHIT OFF YOUR FACES. You just look like a bunch of assholes. Anyway, moving on:

The Mustache Maintenance Routine of Tom Selleck


  • a mustache comb made with hairs from the mane of a Triple Crown winner (you can't LOOK like a champion unless you groom WITH a champion)
  • a vial of Holy Water and/or the tears of virgins
  • unaltered beeswax (just maintain your own hive to make it easier on yourself)
  • gummi bears


  • Wet the mustache comb with the Holy Water and/or tears of virgins
  • Comb through mustache
  • Take just a bit of the beeswax between your fingers and rub a light sheen on your mustache
  • Comb through mustache once more
  • Check out what a virile man you are in the mirror
The gummi bears are for eating. I love those little bastards.

Hypothetical question: Is it gay to ask a woman to role play as Magnum, P.I. in bed?