After 59 years, the exact moment of the new year's arrival has pretty much lost its ability to fascinate, so I turned in last night shortly before midnight. I had the most peculiar dream.
In the dream, I possessed a full mustache. I was standing in front of the mirror, studying my face, when I decided that what I really wanted was a little Hitlerian brush mustache. I commenced trimming the extreme flanks, and then suddenly, in an act of spectacular and inexplicable incompetence, with one swipe of the razor, I completely cleared the real estate located between my nose and the center of my upper lip (consisting largely of what I believe nose specialists refer to as the philtrum). The result was that I now had not one, but two Hitler mustaches, each one positioned slightly to the off side of its respective nostril.
What does it mean, Holmes?
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6 comments:
"I decided that what I really wanted was a little Hitlerian brush mustache."
First, before getting to your interesting question, it's the above which bothers me...
You have lingering doubts about right wing equaling nazi or you wish your mother the car was a 59 Cadillac.
Hercule Poirot?
Reminds me of a mysterious nocturnal change to my only attempt at growing a moustache.
As a teenage trainee pilot, I had gone to bed pleased with its progress and fell into a deep, alcohol-assisted sleep.
When I went to shave the rest of my face the next morning, the mirror revealed that the starboard half of my masterpiece was missing.
The seven other trainees in our sleeping-hut denied any knowledge of what had happened while I slept.
Skeeter: I absolutely take the word of those seven other trainees.
I absolutely take the word of those seven other trainees.
Why would they lie?
As to your bifurcated stache, Paco, since your intent was probably to scare the weak minded, maybe you thought you would be twice as scary with two Hitlers.
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