No training wheels, though.
My roommate, my friend, and I have decided to grow handlebar moustaches. Given that none of us can really grow a decent moustache, it'll take a while...but it'll be worth it, because the handlebar moustache is possibly the funniest thing in the world.
Now, I know that posting something like this without pictures is crazy, but I'm lacking in the digital camera department...so you'll have to settle for these quick CorelDRAW sketches.
Yes, I'm assuming that we'll form a barbershop quartet. And yes, I recognize the intrinsic numerical flaw contained within that prediction.
"She broke up with me two days later. I think she met Don Juan in Italy. She has a new man, I have a new moustache!"
-"Razor Burn" by Lagwagon
...it's hard finding relevant lyrics for a moustache-centric post.