Ryan says:

 
I recently lost my beard after my last 3+ year stint with it, and quickly remembered my dread of daily shaving once it was gone. Mind you, I have some of the worst, most sensitive skin this side of a LoTR-themed filk convention (pure lazy conjecture - advance apologies to the 'fans'), so fear of continually losing layers of epidermal is the easiest explainable reason for my latest moustache attempt [picture purposely not shown]. But I look at Beatles/'Penny Lane'-era pics and think 'well, THEY pulled it off', but those four could've pulled off muumuus if they wanted to:
 
George: 'Look what I picked up last night.' [drapes bright purple-paisleyed muumuu over a Rickenbacker]
Paul: [Defensively] 'Oh, yeah, well Jane and I wore ours to a soiree last weekend, but it was a bit drafty, you know.' etc.
 
Besides, that was 1967, and there's been an boatload of porn - straight and gay - made since.
 
Recently I'm shaving a week's scruff off, and instead of my usual bloodletting, I stop at the 'stache, thinking that this time I can pull it off. '2004 is ready .. finally,' I think to myself, staring in complete distrust at the awkward reflection before me - a half-hearted hipster trying to champion yet another unneeded 'cause. If anything, at best I vaguely recall a British military officer, like the Brigadier that used to hang around Jon Pertwee's Doctor Who. Good/bad? Can't tell anymore.
 
Now, nearly any black or hispanic guy can effortlessly grace a solo moustache, but for whitey, forget about it unless you're a cop, an angry-at-everyone teen, or say, Appalachian. Your other only option is to grow a moustache and keep it for so long that it's impossible for anyone to remember you without it: this technique has worked for Michael Medved, Martin Mull, my Uncle Dave, among others. Well, there is the World Beard & Moustache Championships, but who wants 15 minutes of blog 'ha-ha' fame? Those guys deserve better than the Internet, anyhow.
 
So on the way back from Starbucks this AM, an 8-year old playing in the dirt outside his pad looks up and blurts out 'are you a policeman?' 'Hmm, nope', and I keep on headin' home. As I soon as I get there, I crack and shave as soon as I can. Yes, I wussed out, but I proved my point, I think, and besides, the damn thing made me look at least 8 years older.