The Mullet

There is nothing quite like the perfect mullet.

The one that is 9-to-5-and-sometimes-on-the-

weekends-land-that-big-promotion-and-a-stack-

of-136-business-cards in the front, while being

all-night-ragers-pass-out-wake-up-and-do-it-

again-that-night-keg-stands-and-beer-pong

in the back; the perfect hybrid of buzz cut

and luxurious length that makes you yell and

scream and beat your chest and stomp your feet

and release the pent up frustration from the

entirety of the history of mankind; the blend

of the tame and domesticated pet and the wild

free proud and savage beast that makes it possible

to bring home the bacon and let it all hang out

at the same time; the hairdo to do justice to the

complexity and intricacy of man; the hair style

that brings together the hard working prick and

the trailer trash so that they can walk hand in

hand down the road of life.

O! That I could have such a mullet.