He was a fine lad, if a bit uneven, and lot ugly. He had his detractors, "What did you do to your hair?!" "I just can't take you seriously with that haircut." "You did that yourself, didn't you." but he also had supporters, "Sweet mullet!" "You should wear that all week." "You cut your hair. I like it. (probably spoken by someone with only a frontal view of the head)" "Nice haircut. (potentially sarcastic)" He was born from the head and the clippers on October 21st at around 4:30 p.m. He was a fun loving, '80's partying kind of haircut. He made his true debut to mixed acclaim and slight controversy later that evening at Ms. Woodbridge's birthday party. He was called brave by his friends but, tragically, ugly by his father. HM was a decent church-going fellow and by his first morning even his father had moments of admiration for him. He wasn't too popular with the jr. high girls, but the same could be said of many an adult heart throb. He had a certain haberdasherly panache that afternoon as he accompanied many friends through a maize-y labyrinth. Twice he slept through the night but his life was tragically cut short Monday morning when the same head and clippers that bore him slaughtered him as he was preparing for work around 8:30 a.m.
RIP Homemade Mullet. You might not have been the really, really, ridiculously good looking; you weren't the prettiest hair in any room, and you won't be missed, but you'll be remembered with joy, laughter, and relief. Good night, sweet coif.