Does That Mean the Carpet Matches the Drapes?

A trip to Aggieville always has three main goals associated with it:
1. Do not stay sober
2. Do not spend more than $10
3. Do not lose cell phone
However, going to the Ville can sometimes become a bit routine, so it is necessary to set new, loftier goals than the usual ones. One of these goals goes by the name of "let's find our first husbands,” and we set it one night.
About halfway into the evening, we found ourselves at Aggieville's newest, hippest, pseudo-classy bar, the Kathouse Lounge, with only primary goals 2 and 3 accomplished. We were sitting at one of the tables fiddling with the straws of our freshly emptied drinks, when suddenly we were approached by two males. They went ahead and sat down with us and started striking up awkward bar conversation: “So, you come here often?” We were uninterested and after delivering fake names in horrible Southern Belle accents, I decided to clue them in on our night’s objective. I expected the disclosure of our plan to be met with some confusion, and possibly amusement. Instead, I got a minute-long ranting lecture about how this guy was working on his second graduate degree and how successful he was, no thanks to anyone but himself and his hard work (oddly enough, perfect qualities for a potential first husband). My accomplice was sitting next to me, unaware of the angry outburst, and she leaned over and asked if his red beard matched his hair color. In response to this, he ripped off his hat and shouted, “Yes, my hair matches my beard. And you know what else it matches? One hundred percent success!” He then stormed off.

Moral of the Story:
Don’t base success on pubic hair.