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Mullet Haikus
The long-awaited results from the mullet literature contest are finally in. After weeks of reading and days of deliberation, the award for best mullet poetry goes to... read more
Pioneer Sflbonian: John Stamos
What girl growing up in the late Eighties, early Nineties didn't dream about having an uncle with a mullet as glorious as Uncle Jesse's... read more
Paul McCartney: Mullet Pioneer
Much work has been done to trace the history of the mullet. Various publications on the internet and elsewhere have traced the mullet... read more
Like Father, Like Son (A critical analysis of the mullet symbolism in Star Wars.)
A critical analysis of the mullet symbolism in Star Wars... read moreIntroducing Mr. Mullet
Introductions
Dear readers, this is for the thousands of women who proposition me each month. A little bit of romance to whet your appetite:
Step into Mr. Mullet's muraled van, and you step into a jade garden of sensual delights. Step closer cheri, and let Mr. Mullet whisper sweet nothings in your ear. I will show you delights, the like of which you can hardly dream. I will caress and put my arms around you. Didn't think you could do something like that with catfish stink-bait? Oh, but that is only the beginning of your erotic journey this night. Tonight, I greet you, wearing my finest Jordache jeans and white Pony high-tops. My bulging muscles would threaten to rip the sleeves of my shirt?if my shirt had sleeves. As I draw you near to me, you can smell a hint of Compulsion cologne, which you may compare, in your deepest heart, to Calvin Klein's Obsession. My mullet falls in dark waves upon my broad shoulders. Take hold of it. Go on. This is the night to indulge your deepest fantasies.
I will rub sensuous and aromatic oils into your smooth skin. For you, there can only be the finest in Pennzoil synthetic. This night, my darling, there will be no viscosity breakdown, if you get my drift. Damn. And is that a brand-new vanillaroma air freshener you smell? I told you. Only the finest for you.
As we make love for the better part of 30 minutes, you will take a voyage into the very bowels of pleasure. Our love will be hotter than the setting sun in the desert scene airbrushed on the side of my van. And when it is done, we shall lie breathless on the shag-carpet and gaze into the mirror that graces the ceiling of my van. I softly speak your name. What's that you say? That's not your name? Perhaps not, but it is of no great import. What matters is this moment, together, nothing else. Hungry? I believe there are some nachos on the front dash. Eat all you want my dear. In fact, grab me a Bud out of that cooler. Let us drink a toast to the love we have found this night.
Of this beautiful night, I have but one regret. The park closes at 11:00, then the cops kick everyone out of the parking lot. Were it not so, my love, then more delights would await you until 11:30, when "American Gladiators" is on. Alas.
What's that, my darling? It's only 10:47? If this van is rockin', nobody better come knockin'.
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