Thursday, September 23, 2010

"There are rules for the mullet hunt..."

Translation: you never see an episode of COPS where someone with a mullet doesn't get shot...what are these rules you speak of?!?

Well, Pete was the discerning ear I always ran my blogs by before submission, so bear with me. The dog so loved to critique.

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(See, he was more than happy to help and laugh at me even when I wasn’t funny so now you all must do the same…)
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When I lived in Texas, I really thought we cornered the market on mullets. I am pretty sure you’re all familiar, but a mullet is a hairstyle best described by Google image searching “Joe Dirt.” That’s right…when you decide the mullet is the right hair choice for you—you’re embracing a lifestyle, not just a trend.

Needless to say, I thought the rebel hair choice known as the mullet would be long gone as I waved to Texas in my rearview mirror and headed to the North. There are few things I have been more wrong about (like the catastrophic time I decided tequila and Goldschlager would pair excellently, or my prediction that the Spice Girls would last forever…oh Past Me, you were so jubilantly foolish).

But when I arrived, Michigan turned into a proverbial “Who’s Who” of the mullet wearing community. Men, teenage boys, grown women, babies, dogs…they all had mullets. I know you question the validity of a dog being able to sport a mullet, but hello, a poodle with overgrown hair is totally rocking one (mental picture status: EPIC). No one is safe.

But there was one in particular I saw today that literally stopped me dead in my tracks, mouth agape, eyes wide, breath ceased in horror/amazement- horrazement. This man was dressed in tattered jeans, and a cut off tee sporting a WWE Raw logo (your first hint he’s quite accustomed to the mullet lifestyle), and work boots. He was wearing a lime green camouflage fishing hat. While usually I would be pointing out the obvious misstep of wearing a lime green hat as camouflage- we have more important things to worry about. Upon removal of the hat/locating device, a mane of long, wavy hair unfolded down his back, nearly to his plumber-peek-a-boo-asscrack, however- in the front it did not do the same.

In the front he had the most impressive Elvis impersonator swirl of hair I have ever seen. It was almost as if you separated the two hair styles you would have Fabio standing next to Mr. Presley himself. Needless to say, I scrambled for my blackberry while trying to muffle my hysterical fit of laughter not to make too much noise.

But I was scared if I got close enough to take a picture, the sheer force of the thing would suck me in and cause me the sudden urge to rebuild a 1975 TransAm or name my first born Cletus (or Bobby Ray if it’s a girl- cause dammit I ain’t raisin’ no sissy!).

I really must apologize to y’all (see I was a good 20 feet away and it affected my grammar) that I was not brave enough to take a photo. This was definitely the most epic mullet I’ve ever seen. But I don’t think I could embrace, let alone, pull off the mullet lifestyle- so please...forgive me for the sake of my barely there sanity and ability to dress and leave the house without looking like my electricity went out.

I thank you ahead of time.

P.S. Anyone reading this with a mullet- I apologize, and I gotta say- Jared Allen is my favorite football player of all time (but did ya’ll a huge disservice by choppin’ that thing off).

P.P.S. I'm really proud I made this entire post without once referring to the mullet credo of "business in the front, party in the back."

2 comments:

  1. Mullet = crime, they came back int "fashion" here a few years ago and people I previously considered normal rushed out to have the front of their hair cut, why?

    ReplyDelete

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