AC 180: The De-Douching of Anderson Cooper

From the outpouring of emails, IMs and text messages from my gay constituents, and I don't mean gay in any pejorative way, I mean the people who read this blog who play tummy sticks or scissors sisters, I am doing a 180 on Anderson Cooper.

Ok...it's true that they threatened to cancel my fundraiser. But, that's not why I'm going the other way here. Something happened last night when that Anderson was not there to host AC 360...I felt a little sad. I swallowed 3 perks, after 2 beers and wrote this:

O silver fox
With steely eyes painted blue
The guy with forehead wrinkles?
Yeah he's got those too!

I wonder if you'd be so kind
To allow a drunken mustache to rewind
And taken back the "fact" I said you're a douche
As to not offend my friends who are poufs

Now that I think of it
O how they're right
Anderson-mustache sandwich?
Let the fellas have a bite

Or nibble, or tickle or two
There ain't no AC 360 without a silver fox like you

Hoping for funds,
J-Stache



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NEW DOUCHE SUPER GROUP: THE FLAME BOTS

I was approached by a label that will remain nameless to A&R a new douche super group being built around A-Rod, Dane Cook and Anderson Cooper. Seems like the "music" is going to be hip-hop beats against banal news and limp dick jokes. I spent an hour in a meeting debating whether Anderson should go by the moniker "Da Coop" or "A to Iz-C" given recent trends in male tastemakers aged 16 to 25.

We broke for lunch and I managed to lick up a whole sheet of acid for "inspiration". Gay Fundraiser, you're my only hope!!! Save me from the record machine!!!

Waiting for acid wave,
J-Stache


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KANYE WEST: IDIOT TALKS

Upon the release of his "book", Kayne gleefully declared himself a "proud non-reader". I have told you about the dangers of goatees in the past. I've even given you douches the keys to the kingdom, yet when a goateed Idiot Talks, some hack found it fit to publish. Oy vey.

You can have a goatee, which I shall hence forth call a cock-target, and have talent. But talent sucks, I'm talking genius. MUSTACHIOED FUCKING MADMAN GENIUS HOMES.

I don't know shit about physics except that Einstein's stache proved that space and time are variable and the speed of light is constant. 60 years later, with the aid of a fistful of "special medicine" I proved that rock n' soul can and must be mixed for man to achieve his full potential.

MUSTACHES 1,000,000 COCK-TARGETS 0

F-Kayne,
J-Stache


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HIRED AND FIRED IN THE SAME WEEKEND

Well friends. I'm unemployed again...and I don't give a fuck. I'm happy to rely on my gay friends and their fundraiser to keep me in weed.

My "sponsor" Doug got me a job at low-end department store that shall go nameless as I'm contacting my lawyer re: suing the fascists; firing a mustache for sexual perversion has got to be against some statues on retardation somewhere, yes?

Well, Friday was my first day. I snapped this photo of a sweet pair of fun bags over a changing stall wall on Saturday, got blown out Sunday. The fact they made we work the whole day before getting pink slipped was just cruel.

Dog track anybody?

Your mother,
J-Stache


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I KEEP CLEAN WHERE IT COUNTS

I think you should too. You wouldn't put a dirty dish back in the cabinet, right? So why are you putting that bagel back brown love? Do the right thing, invest in some wipes and make your next party that much fresher.

You're welcome.
J-Stache


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GAY PEOPLE...YOU OWE ME!!!

For real though! Where would the whole gay movement be without the mustache??? Where would the mustache be without me?? Right!!!!

I'm for equality and social justice. Like, I gave to you, NOW FUCKING GIVE TO ME!!!

Gay people. I'm interested in you throwing a fund raiser for me. Certainly, I'll make an appearance on the promise of no funny business. If I am unavailable given my commitment to any number of illicit substances or alleged legal problems, I accept PayPal at ridethemustache@gmail.com.

Thank you,
J-Stache

Post Script.
S.A.T Question Committee take note! Rosa Parks is to Civil Rights as J-Stache is to LGBT Rights


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POEM FOR APPLE BUTTS

Sweet Lordy, Lordy
That's a dangerous butt hook
From the small of back
You launch one explosive tush

Of onion
Of apple
Of challah bread bump
Is this what the kids mean when they say "lady lumps"?

I want to watch you do squats
Let's do a couple of max out sets
Don't mind me darling
I'm just in the corner, pounding out my own reps


Post script:
Jessica Biel, please email me again. The rash is gone and I promise to get John Oates on the phone.

Waiting,
J-Stache


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SETH GODIN, LET'S PUSH THROUGH SOME DIPS BROTHER!

Seth, somebody told me about your book, something like knowing when to quit and pushing dips and shit. I have no idea what any of that means. However, if you are looking to make it big on a blog or books, you gotta reach out man. I had my people do up a picture of what our partnership could look like. Fulfill your potential my man, we could start a pretty fresh side gig: Monopoly Guy appearances! I'm sure that we would stay in killer KB at all those gaming conventions, not to mention all the high end call girls who run those circuits.

Trim, trim!
J-Stache


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THE BEST VIDEO OF ALL-TIME

WHAT BITCHES???? I DARE YOU??? SAY SOMETHING!!


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Memories of Saltillo, Mexico

I was on the couch yesterday at Dr. Sucio Sanchez. He practices a tight verse of Jungian psychotherapy with some leanings on traditions rooted in the occult. In any event, we were into a transgression session using hypnosis when I apparently recounted my time in Saltillo, Mexico...something for which I have no conscious memories of. Here are the good doctor's notes from the session which he sent me off with for their "theraputic balue":

"Este es bigote maldito loco! Aléjate de mí! Por favor, por favor, por favor, acabar con el bigote! Matar este bigote ahora mismo!"

Anybody out there now what this jibberish means? Thanks.

J-Stache

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OF CAMEL TOE, UNCERTAINTY AND COLONICS

I am officially torn on camel toe. On the one hand, it can be super awesome to get a look under the hood without renting the car. I can think of many poems inspired by overly aggressive spandex. Conversely, even I can get grossed out when the balance of good and bad gets tipped toward mayhem. Specifically, when sweat pants are involved, I have a problem.

Uncertainty is not a part of my world man!!! It's in or out!! Love or hate!! The blink test!

This was all made worse yesterday when I went for my first colonic. My shrink tells me it helps in kicking opiates, so fuck you and your judgments. The lady worked the nozzle with a gentle touch. She pitched me for like a half hour on positivity, aura and why I should become a "raw foodist", whatever the fuck that means.

Anyhow, that's when I saw it. She was smuggling a fist. It was epic. I reached for my iPhone but was still tethered by her tube. I became emotional. Was it the nozzle or the camel?? I don't know what to make of it all, man.

Certainty, please wash me over once more.

Anxious,
J-Stache.


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BROOKLYN VEGAN OWES ME MONEY

So. I'm just talking about people giving me my due man. I need my ends. Whoever runs Brooklyn Vegan and Sterogum, please know that I accept PayPal at ridethemustache@gmail.com

In 1986, I started a fax based new music newsletter called "I FIND HITS, HOOKERS". The cops claimed it was a front for a dial-in based weed delivery service but that has never been proven. Whatever. In the weeks to come, I'll post some newsletters as evidence of my A&R skills and the overall bad-ass nature of "I FIND HITS, HOOKERS".

We're talking cutting edge shit hefe. A tiny taste of the bands I was first on: Nirvana, Pearl Jam, MC Hammer (I needed the money), Beastie Boys, Public Enemy, REM.

"I FIND HITS, HOOKERS" birthed the entire music blog douche movement. Arcade Fire?? Claps Your Hands Whatever? VAMPIRE WEEKEND???? You owe me too.

Solid pimp-hand out,
J-Stache


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HOW TO GROW A MUSTACHE

Alright dummies. I keep get emails for lame douche dudes asking me how to make a man-sized stache. Now any qwiff can grow a pencil dash across his top lip and pretend to be a cowboy. What I'm talking about is taking a shot at the title, talkin' about putting a brick through the other guy's windshield...I'm talking about taking it out and chopping it up.

If you want a little extra space to be a man, partner up with a real stache. Here is my receipe for girthy growth:

1. Feed your dog 6 cans of Hormel Chilly
2. Collect his shit piles for an entire day
3. Bake those shit piles in the oven at 375 for 25 minutes
4. Remove and let cool for 1 min
5. Dip fingers in and sanchez yourself
6. Listen to "Voices" by Hall & Oates & J-Stache straight through, VINYL ONLY!
7. Repeat for 3 days in a row
8. Email your results to ridethemustacheATgmailDOTcom

You're welcome.

(From a rock n' soul icon who invented music television only to have it
stolen by corporate hacks)

J-Stache

Post-Script: Louis B...I expect big things from you.


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SIDE PART MUSTACHE, CHEECH IS A PIMP

For real, I'm not bullshitting here. I was pushing John Oates to do the Cheech side-part mustache. Look close man, that's some pimp sauce. No dice, Oates was too straight-laced. Mellow out man!

Anyhow, I did once eat a fistful of acid on accident and had a Halloween head from hell. It took like a week to not be afraid of toilet paper. I was jailed after using a Don Johnson's yard hose to clean my undercarriage. That guy was always a pantie-waste anyhow.

Watch more Cheech and Chong homes, it's good for you.

Your mama,
J-Stache


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WILCO (THE ALBUM): YOU'RE WELCOME

I was brought in as a Creative Director on the latest Wilco studio project. If I'm not credited in the linear notes, I'll have a foot full of ass on somebody.

Anyway, the album artwork: totally my idea - a peyote dream scape of mine for some recent rock climbing outing.

Stream the album here:

Wilco (The Album)

You're welcome,
J-Stache


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ODE TO THE BIG STAR

Tinkle, tinkle, my Big Star,
How I wonder where you are!
Hiding out in a Donut Delight,
Mauling bear claws late at night?

I miss feeding time,
Going to Mr. Zu's Chinese Buffet,
2 for 1 coupon, the early bird special
Talking shit about Walters,
Star 20, Plumbing 0.

Come back to us Big Star,
Sausage and pep on the house
(within reason)

Penned at Ruby's All Nude Cafe - Bridgeport, CT 3:17 AM May 11, 2009 as inspired by the heavyset dancer "Sugar".

Copyright protected.
J-Stache


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Gary Dell'Abate Needs Me

Oy Vey.
J-Stache



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We Are The World: The After Party

First off, why the fuck didn't me and Oatesie get a solo on this goofy track? Whatever, I'm not getting into it now.

I'm here to spill beans bitches.

So the after party, we were the world, and by that I mean we had an AROUND THE WORLD ON CINDI LAUPER.

Me and Huey Lewis with some help from Al Jarreau and The Kennys (Rogers & Loggins) got all types of twisted with Cindi. I don't remember how the nakedness started...but I do know I was the first to She-Bop.

Cindi is the real deal. She is NYC punk through and through. I'm down for a re-up so long as Loggins ain't around.

Still rock n' soul,
J-Stache



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Me and Gary Dell'Abate

Since me and Oates are on the rocks, I'm looking for another JV deal in entertainment. Baba Booey is a talented producer...the man has been working for Howard Stern for like, forever or something

. I never hung out with the dude, but I can go out on a limb and say this: I can help with the horse-tooth-jack-ass issue. Hanging with a lip duster can cover any number of protruding tooth & oversized lip issues while helping you get all types of strange.

Gary, reach out my man! Have one of your minions call my agent! Let's make some sweet music, do some karate in the garage and bird dog some chicks up your way.

Sincerely,
J-Stache




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Hall & Oates & Me plus An Aussie

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IT WAS RON J DUMMY!!!

Ok, ok...so you all knew it was Ron Jeremy. Congratulations on that full scholarship to FU!

No, I didn't meet him at a swingers party dummy. Ron doesn't unzip his fly for less than $5K. Ron beat me out for the role of Dead Gums Malone in the ill-fated cop drama-ical "Perp Walk". Thanks a lot JJ.




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Ode To Denise

I'm alone with you.
But you're trapped in my TV set.
Your hair helmet is one thing
I shan't soon forget

Please, please, please
Touch your toes
I'll reach into the fridge
For one of your Idaho potatoes

Chop up some garlic
Rub in some oil
350 on bake
Wrap that bitch in tin foil
A little naughty time, lets make

Do some stretches
You taunt, I eat
Can you be this chipper
And have a dyn-o-mite backseat?

Denise, Denise
I don't run, jog or jump
But I'll surely count each reps
As you work your lady lumps

The End.

Publish Post

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IS THAT MY MUSTACHE?

YES BITCHES!!!

I will be outing all types of dirty birds in my series...IS THAT MY MUSTACHE? Yes! I will featured only staches that I have either: done blow with, seen at a swingers party, lost a daytime soap role to, or defecated on their respective doorstep. As I run out of the first three, I'll be eating lots of Tico Tacos and roaming the country side with a turtle poking. Please forward Selleck's home addy.

Out this bastard tomorrow.




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NEW IM, CHICKS ONLY!!!

In response to the multitude of emails I'm getting from ladies out there, I got on AOL IM. There is some other goat pretending to be me, but don't fall for those weak lines. Ladies only. You can reach me on AOLIM: therealjstache

Get some.


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I NEED A JOB!!!!

Alright...all you Facebook, Tweet, Tumblr douches. I need work. It's sure hard to stay high in this economy.

I just finished reading "What Color Is My Parachute". You're supposed to create a job that suits your strengths and passions, then "put it out into the world" and it will arrive.

So here it is, I now know my true calling. I was born to be a celebrity merkin. Look it up on Wiki dumbass.

I would like nothing more than to conceal the china of Hollywood's most classy stars. I had a mock up done. See above as it serves as my CV.

The agents of the following stars please reach out before my calendar gets filled up: Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, Olsen Twins, the less butch of the two Indigo Girls.

Can. Do. Go. Now. Make. Say. Be.


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Sweet Dom D, Mustachioed Brother in Arms...Rest Up Nice

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For The Record, I'd Still Shag Carrie

Chewy Is Filthy

Publish Post

I was digging through my vinyl this week, bleating like a goat with a vein full of tranquilizers, when I happened upon my pristine 1977 original Star Wars soundtrack. I figured what the douche cleat, why not get the speakers on the hardwood and blast some Imperial March at the fucker down stairs.

Now I rock one of those hip-cat Technics that you can scratch on and shit. Lifted it from an open van in Jersey some time back. Anyhow, I was a bit into the tune when I tripped near the turn table which hard-reversed the record. I heard a most disturbing sound...

Now when I say Chewy is filthy, you most likely not surprised. I mean, he's 8 feet tall, full on shag carpet and naked. Come to think it...so am I except for the 8 foot thing.

Whatever.

Me and Oates hung out with him at a Return of the Jedi party...seriously, the guy is a degenerate. First off, I saw him shit in the filter of George Lucas's pool. Not out of anger, just "being an artist" he said, if I recall correctly. And it surely is hard to recall anything correctly when you hang out with Chewy. Apparently, the weed on whatever plane wookies come from is the real deal man. Also, you find yourself engaging in strange sex acts that demand to be deleted from your memory by electric shock treatment or over indulgance in huffing kerosene.

BACK TO THE VINYL RECORD BITCHES!

Vinyl geeks. Go back to your '77 soundtrack and spin it in reverse. You will hear the most horrible sound imaginable: Chewbacca pounding one out to a R.O.F.Jedi photo of Carrie Fisher. Ever hear a wookie burn one down? If you're the dummy who lives in the apartment below, you most certainly have. Yeah Chewy!! Get some!!

Ode To Menudo (Tight Pants)

Tight pack grip.
Ass cake surprise.
From ankle to hip.
Stretched on sweet thighs.

O lycra, O denim, O corduroy
5 types of sassy Latino boys
Tickle, tickle, say goo goo goo
My guess is that the dude's father all the way right in this photo is at least half Hebrew.

Long nights and late mornings,
And so wherever I may go
I take this laminated keepsake of The Boys in Tight Pants
That that world calls Menudo.

(yes...jamesbootyitch16849@aol.com, i have done blow off my laminated Menudo photo)