Back in October, the American Mustache Institute announced its list of the 19 finalists for the Robert Goulet Memorial Mustached American of the Year, and now you can breathe again because a winner has been chosen. The world of sports was represented by Major League pitcher Carl Pavano, Sacramento mayor and former Phoenix Suns guard Kevin Johnson, Chicago Blackhawks coach Joel Quenneville, Major League Baseball umpire Jim Joyce, and the UTEP Miners mascot, Paydirt Pete. So which one of these spectacular sports figures won the glorious honor? None of them. Bunch of worthless jerks.

Instead, the 2010 Goulet Award was presented to firefighter Brian Sheets at a ceremony in St. Louis, Missouri, where the local women undoubtedly had to shave their mustaches to not one-up the winner. Sheets is from the beautiful and heavenly utopia of Orlando, FL, where he’s a firefighter, EMT and fire academy instructor. He received 22% of the 500,000 votes to earn the honor, while Pavano finished in third with 15%. Suck it, Pavano.

Twirl your Rollie Fingers, Asylum and tell us how the big winner feels…

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The American Mustache Institute has announced its list of 19 finalists for this year’s Robert Goulet Memorial Mustached American of the Year. Sadly, your elementary school lunch lady once again missed the cut. But the sporting world has some well-known names up for this fuzzy honor, including Minnesota Twins pitcher Carl Pavano, Sacramento mayor and former Phoenix Suns guard Kevin Johnson, Chicago Blackhawks coach Joel Quenneville, Major League Baseball umpire Jim Joyce, and the UTEP Miners mascot, Paydirt Pete. Pete is also a nominee for the New Face of NAMBLA competition.

The AMI Goulet awards are not a contest of the greatest mustache, but rather the celebration of the person who best represents mustached Americans. You know, if you put it that way, I have to put my vote with Carl Pavano. Think about it – he took fat paychecks from a large American company to rarely show up for work, was eventually let go, and now he collects paychecks from a smaller American company just to spend the rest of his days on easy street. *wipes away single tear* That’s a gosh-darned American right there.

Rest of the fur-lipped nominees after the jump:

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For those of us who have been paying attention to the goings-on in Carl Pavano's life — not merely his hilariously messed up arm that will inevitably require Tommy John surgery, but the rise and fall of his engagement to NYC hottie Gia Allemand — the arrival of Gia's photo shoot for Maxim has been long-awaited indeed.  And it certainly doesn't disappoint.  Like I said, that strained forearm of Pavano's won't be healing any time soon.

And neither will mine.  Neither.  Will.  Mine. 

(Lots more pics at the aforelinked gallery, but you shouldn't go there unless you want to get Tommy John Surgery.  I'm serious.  I was there for half an hour and I've got Tommy John surgery all over my pants.) 

Well, it's not actually Carl Pavano, but the new DiceGay.com is delightfully reminiscent of the sadly departed TonyHomo — probably because they have the same author, but whatever.  What matters is that Pavano is a clueless "playa" along the lines of Drew Bledsoe.  Some samples:

God, thunderstorms are so fucking core. What you playas don't understand is that I get energy from the rain and the thunder, and the lightning. It feeds my inner beast. The minute I heard that thunder, you shoulda seen me, I took a bat and I just ran onto the field yelling until my larynx was bruised…

Playa Tip #41: Leave the meat, pimps. Just eat the bones. Straight-up marrow-sauce style. Finger lickin' dry! You shoulda seen the look on that waitress' face when she carried my plate away filled with rib meat in an 8 inch thick pile. Bones missing. She acted disgusted, but inside, she knew I was total boss. Either way, no tip for her…

Check it: I meant to blog yesterday, but Sundays is busy as shit for me. First, I gotta go to Mass and get my tithe on, then I gotta drink my water. I drink all of my water for the week on Sunday morning. Straight-up fifteen gallons. Gulp. Gulp. It saves me mad time and hassle during the week. Time is money, playas. I got too much pimpin' to do to be lookin' for a bottle of Evian every two seconds.

And so on, and so forth.  This blog actually makes me a little excited to go to Yankee Stadium tonight and tomorrow — albeit to see the Mariners.  Then I realized that Jeff Weaver is pitching Saturday, and I had to start cutting myself again.

Thanks to sex machine Steve for the tip. Pictured: Pavano's ex-fiancee Gia Allemand;

With not nearly enough athletes in the police blotter today, I'm forced to turn toward Yankees money pitcher Carl Pavano and the hot chick that broke up with him right before Opening Day.  Specifically, the word is that, as The Big Lead insinuated last week, she got pregnant before they broke up (item in Side Dish):

Allemand, who accused Pavano of "cheating" on her, also admitted she'd been seeing a former boyfriend "on and off for six years." Steppin' Out interviewer Chaunce] Hayden tells us Allemand also confirmed that she became pregnant while seeing Pavano. Is she still expecting? "That's something only Gia and God know," says Hayden. "And maybe Carl."

This reminds me of the time in the preseason where Pavano missed some time with the club because he rushed back to see Allemand, who had some kind of undisclosed "medical emergency."

So many possibilities here.  Like, she could have had appendicitis.  Or a really bad case of the flu.  Or she fell and thought she broke her wrist, but really it was just a sprain.  Or… um… nope, I can't think of anything else.

Carl Pavano, the Opening Day pitcher for the Yankees (who have paid him $20 million to not pitch over the last two seasons), got dumped by Gia Allemand, the student / model to whom I previously called your attention. And it's apparently because the epically injured hurler wasn't getting the variety he wanted (or so she claims).

"I stood by him and didn't work so I could help him out, and he cheats on me. Nice, right?" …Obviously hurting, Allemand described their relationship as being "as bad as Carl's pitching!"

The 23-year-old Allemand's next move is to pose for the men's magazine Maxim in a jaw-dropping pictorial.

Bada bing bang boom. Desiree, cancel all my appointments and hold my calls. I'm gonna be busy with this issue of Maxim for a while.

What? It's not out yet? Oh, fine. I'll just go to her website. What can I say? I dig her musical selection.