trocar

Mullet story

Now growing-up in Nelson, B.C. I'v seen every type of "10/90" under that blazing ball of gas and nuclear fssion there could be: skullets, femullets, frullets...yes the interior of B.C. has been a nurturing environment to the "camaro crash helmet" with many variations finding a niche. However to truly grasp the significance of the "business in front, party in back" I had to go to Vancouver Island to sip from the Holy Grail of mullethood. I was at the local video rental outlet browsing the latest selections in the adult review, right now I know your thinking how in the course of space and time would you find a "Mississippi Mudflap" and pornography inhabiting the same area? Well you the reader are just going to believe in destiny and suspend normal societal mores. I heard a voice, a voice filled with high praise for the sights before him, proclaiming his approval for the images prsented to him. At first not realizing how fate was smiling upon me I tried with little success to concentrate on my own business and was able to for some time, however one can only fight a losing battle for so long. Finally I looked...there he was a man (he was just a man in the same way the statue of liberty is just a statue) blessed with what can only be described by mortals as the mullet of a titian. Rich, raven black hair flowing well past the waistline and yet held between the shoulders as if guarded by two heavenly angels. The signs of conditioning were well apparent even at this early hour, and brushing had obviously be implemented only recently. The top was a ruse of confromity meant to confuse the layman at first glance with the tapping of a mere trim, however closer inspection revealed a large frontal wave that tapered off above the left ear and lines of ever decreasing length shaved into the sides for what I can only guess was to facillitate air flow to thal glorious main protruding fron the posterior aspect of the skull. I can only speculate as to the reason for his appearence before me, as minutes and days merged into one, for a split second he stood before me the powerful aura of the "Tennessee Top Hat" holding me to my place. I only vaugely remember him soloicting my opinion as to which was superior in form "a gangbang with tons of chicks, or like just one really hot one?" It may take a lifetime to unscramble what devine gospel he was trying to impart on me, I still hear them today as they were said to me. And then as the four dimensions that comprise our reality reformed in their proper orientation, the "North Carolina Neck Warmer" in all his wisdom was gone, as if for one breif moment I had dined at the revered table of light, truth, and grace, but was now regailed back to begging for mere table scraps to sustain my meek soul.