There's nothing in the rules stating that my moustache has to be real. Not that I couldn't grow one if I wanted to—that's not the point. The point is I love drinking. And I'll do anything to get into A Party that's certain to have large quantities of liquid inhibition.

If you've seen my stache you're probably already dead. It's killer. At The Revival don't make eye contact with my stache. Look down. Back away slowly. It's your only hope for survival.

Clearly I'd look dang good with a thick, luxurious, lip mane. But I fear for the public's safety because of all the attention it will draw. My only socially responsible option is to open this decision to the democratic process. Your comments will decide the fate of my upper lip. Post yay or nay and find out at The Party.

Thanks for callin' Glen. He is currently not able to take your call. He's out growin' a sweet moustache. Your call is important to him so please leave a message, or better yet grow a stache of your own and party with him at The Revival.

There's only 40 days before The Big Shazam and I gots to get my lip fleece started. Me and the fellas will be sharing our moustache progress throughout September. Come back and see the growth.