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Nick Offerman’s mustache is a source of inspiration and wisdom. To grow that kind of magical face bush, though, it had to be carefully assembled by years of life experiences that added each and every hair to the assortment like metals of valor.
As a boy, Offerman had one of those experiences when he received a bit of awkward instruction on the shape and appeal of the female body from the unlikeliest of sources: a Nun who was in the habit (not a pun!) of playing Billy Joel music and passing around Playboy Magazine and Penthouse Magazine to her students to show them what sin looked like, and incidentally, what its turn-ons were.
Frankly, I am appalled by this for a variety of reasons. First off, porn isn’t an appropriate educational tool for teenagers and neither is Billy Joel. “We Didn’t Start the Fire” is hardly a stand-in for a history textbook. Secondly, when I was 12, I had to find out about human sexuality via the fuzzed out Spice Channel just like everyone else. There was no internet or lax Nuns. No one handed porn to me, I had no sense of entitlement. I had to learn to read the snow and, despite that valuable life skill, I do feel a little bit ripped off.
Source: Team Coco
