It's time to let go. Not only is your fascination with this variety of facial hair a little disturbing, it's a little late.
The mustache (as it's currently known in embroidered pillow, rubber eraser, and finger tattoo form) entered saturated popular culture around the same time you started drawing them on your enemy's middle school year book photo and quickly became the adornment of anything and everything that's graced the shelves of Urban Outfitters.
This brings us to five reasons why it's time for the mustache icon to quietly die.
5. You don't even have one.
Nor should you. But that's beside the point. Mustaches are rarely well kept and are rarely flattering. You tell me how many times you've seriously looked at the men known worldwide for their mustaches (Groucho Marx, Gene Shalit, Charlie Chaplin, Salvador Dali or Fu Manchu) and thought about sex.
Mustaches -- we'll explain because you likely don't have one -- are known to collect crumbs, beer foam, and other flavors we won't go into. And if you're not willing to sport one, neither should your coffee mug.
4. They're infecting every handmade product on Etsy.
A sure sign of a trend jumping the plaid-clad, Ray Ban-wearing shark is it's overwhelming presence on Etsy. Take a look at this screen capture -- a result of entering "mustache" into the search field of the chintziest craft site to take over the Internet.
There are almost 11,000 things for sale that have been stamped, painted, pasted, fashioned, molded, branded, or sculpted (shudder) into a mustache. That, friends, is a red flag.
3. They've been included in one of these slogans:
2. Mustaches have been deemed "edible"
Lovely, because I couldn't imagine baking a dozen cookies, freezing a trayfull of popsicles, or molding a bunch of lollipops that weren't shaped like body hair.
Hey, here's a suggestion: how about happy trail-shaped snickerdoodles? Armpit hair-shaped decorations for cupcakes? Wait -- is that a hairball?
1. They're stamped on your nails.
I'll admit, I was ready to let the mustache quietly creep into the realm of insignificance until I saw this:
Quick question: Why the hell are you stamping mustaches onto your nails? It was bad enough when your dead cell choice of adornment was a cheaply done Domo or leftover newspaper. But come on. Do yourself a favor, get some nail polish remover, a few cotton balls, and scrub the man bush off of your nails.
For some odd reason, I'm thinking you'll thank me later.