He leaned forward to inspect her closer. "Is that all hair?" ... Sudden, overwhelming panic clawed up Cress's throat. With a squeak, she ducked out of view of the camera and scrambled beneath the desk. Her back struck the wall with a thud that rattled her teeth. She crouched there, skin burning hot and pulse thundering as she took in the room before her— the room that he was now seeing too, with the rumpled bedcovers and the mustached man on all the screens telling her to grab her imaginary partner and swing them around. "Wha—where'd she go?" Thorne's voice came to her through the screen. "Honestly, Thorne." A girl. Linh Cinder? "Do you ever think before you speak?" "What? What did I say?" " 'Is that all hair?' " "Did you see it? It was like a cross between a magpie nest and ball of yarn after it's been mauled by a cheetah." A beat. Then, "A cheetah?" "It was the first big cat that came to mind.
We can’t be lovers because we both have mustaches. But since you’re a lady, and I’m a gentleman, I’ll shave mine off.
I want to get the huge wart that looks like a nose removed from my back, but first I'm going to try to grow a mustache underneath it, to make it less noticeable.
Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache.
Since I don't smoke, I decided to grow a mustache - it is better for the health. However, I always carried a jewel-studded cigarette case in which, instead of tobacco, were carefully placed several mustaches, Adolphe Menjou style. I offered them politely to my friends: "Mustache? Mustache? Mustache?" Nobody dared to touch them. This was my test regarding the sacred aspect of mustaches.
I water fake plants, because I’m growing a garden of fake mustaches. Lest no man (or woman) question my ability as a lover.
With eyes closed, a kiss is genderless. Now that mustaches are in fashion, some women are finding more hipster love.