What You Think You Look Like:

You know the word suavity exists, and you plan to use it in every sentence you speak for the rest of your life -- even if it's just whispering it seductively at the end of them like Sex Punctuation. There are three things you do better than anybody else: Dance, fuck, and avoid immigration. And you look damn good doing all of them, even the last one.
Especially the last one. The last thing the INS sees is your shaking hips Samba-ing over the barbed wire fence of an impound lot, and though they would never admit it, they envy the fence. Sure, you look like kind of a pervert. But it's the
good kind of pervert.
What You Really Look Like:

Nope. It's not.
The wild card of the facial hair world, the Combination comes in many forms: Beard and moustache, soul patch and cho chos, mutton chops and a mohawk - one style of facial hair could never hold you, man. You yearn to be free, and God help the razor that tries to tame you.
What You Think You Look Like:

Equal parts badass motherfucker, lovable hero, and zany clown. You're a big, lovable maniac, just as likely to bear hug a group of children as you are to steal their schoolbus and ramp it into a taxiing commuter plane in order to take out The Spider before he can flee to a non-extraditing country.
What You Really Look Like:

You're trying to hide as much face as possible behind your baroque hair illusions, and everybody knows why: You're not even ugly, you're just nothing special. You're a blank slate, a cipher, a non-entity. Your face is a lightly used mid-90s minivan, and yet you tinted the windows and slapped flames all over it and insist on bringing it to the track every weekend. You have a half-finished arm sleeve tattoo based on the Tarot; you will never complete it. You tell girls you're heavily into vintage woodworking, when you really mean you bought your coffee table at Goodwill.
The default moustache for the United States of America: It's not too thick, not too thin, centrally located and moderately groomed. The American Standard is a moustache, sure, but it doesn't want to make a
thing out of it. The American Standard is often used as part of a required work uniform, as seen on Highway Patrolman, porn stars, and managers of failing Blockbusters.
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