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The mullet has long been the hairstyle of the unfortunate, those with a low IQ, and subject to intense ridicule. Having a neck-warmer may be seen as acceptable for rednecks that also like to dance to banjo, but here in the UK it does pose one very serious question: "Who gave you that hair-cut?"
Feeling the need to research this matter further I booked myself an appointment at a local hair stylists, 'Hair Today' secluding a dictaphone about my person to capture the conversation between the stylist, who introduced himself as Kyle, and I:
"Good day Sir, I'm Kyle, and I shall be your stylist, what would you like done today?"
"Well, could you cut it relatively short on top, but leave it long at the back. I don't want my neck getting cold."
"You...want a mullet?"
"Oh, is that what they're called?" (I feign surprise here, in order not to blow my cover)
"I have to go speak to the manager, excuse me Sir."
A few moments later Kyle returned with a heavy-set gentleman, who gestured for me to stand, before speaking.
"I'm going to have to ask you to leave Sir. We cannot cut your hair in THAT style, we're a respectable salon."
At this point I made my excuses and left.
I tried 3 other hairdressers that day, 'Hair We Go', 'Snipples' and a salon specialising in extravagant haircuts, 'Hair Dares'. All three asked me to leave when I asked for a mullet.
Could it be that all those that had mullets had their mother to blame? Maybe it was the mother that feared for her child's ears when placing a pudding bowl on their head, so she only cut the front section, leaving the back to grow long?
As unlikely as it seemed, it was my only lead, until I spotted a caravan in a lay-by. It was a gentleman's barbers. I headed in hoping to find answers. Initially it seemed to be disappointing. None of the men sat waiting for a haircut had mullets and the man sat in the chair was having a respectable short back and sides. I waited my turn, and as expected was asked to leave upon requesting a mullet.
Just as it seemed that I had hit a dead-end I reached into my pocket, and to my surprise found a note had been shoved in there:
9:00pm tonight, alley behind Woolworth’s
It looked like I finally had a lead worth following up.
At 10 o'clock I found myself waiting behind Woolworth’s, wondering if this whole thing had been a waste of time, when a man, hiding his face beneath the hood of his jacket approached me, remaining in the shadows.
"I had to wait to see if you were serious." He said. "Follow me"
I followed the shadowy figure until we came to a dead end, with a chair placed at the end, and a number of spotlights.
I sat in the chair, and for the first time got a look at the man. He looked just like Paul McCartney.
"Are you.." I started to ask.
"No. I just look at him. Just mul-let it be. Quiet, and mul-let me cut."
As I sat in the chair I became quiet worried. I had no idea whether this backyard barber's scissors had been properly sterilised, or if he'd be able to cut well in such poor light. Before he had a chance to snip at my hair though, torchlight was seen coming around the corner. Quick as a flash he was gone, I was left sitting in the chair, as the torch light came around the corner, revealing a police officer to be carrying it.
I was taken down to the police station, where I was questioned, but let go without charge.
I discovered from the officer, who refused to be named, that there were a number of illegal 'back street barbers' operating in the area, and it was these men that were giving people this black market mullets.
The worrying thing is that there is obviously the desire their in the public to have this hair cut, and both customers and barbers are going to increasingly more dangerous lengths to continue the mullet. Surely it's only a matter of time before the whole operation is pushed underground, where regulators will have no hope of stamping in out at all.
Feeling the need to research this matter further I booked myself an appointment at a local hair stylists, 'Hair Today' secluding a dictaphone about my person to capture the conversation between the stylist, who introduced himself as Kyle, and I:
"Good day Sir, I'm Kyle, and I shall be your stylist, what would you like done today?"
"Well, could you cut it relatively short on top, but leave it long at the back. I don't want my neck getting cold."
"You...want a mullet?"
"Oh, is that what they're called?" (I feign surprise here, in order not to blow my cover)
"I have to go speak to the manager, excuse me Sir."
A few moments later Kyle returned with a heavy-set gentleman, who gestured for me to stand, before speaking.
"I'm going to have to ask you to leave Sir. We cannot cut your hair in THAT style, we're a respectable salon."
At this point I made my excuses and left.
I tried 3 other hairdressers that day, 'Hair We Go', 'Snipples' and a salon specialising in extravagant haircuts, 'Hair Dares'. All three asked me to leave when I asked for a mullet.
Could it be that all those that had mullets had their mother to blame? Maybe it was the mother that feared for her child's ears when placing a pudding bowl on their head, so she only cut the front section, leaving the back to grow long?
As unlikely as it seemed, it was my only lead, until I spotted a caravan in a lay-by. It was a gentleman's barbers. I headed in hoping to find answers. Initially it seemed to be disappointing. None of the men sat waiting for a haircut had mullets and the man sat in the chair was having a respectable short back and sides. I waited my turn, and as expected was asked to leave upon requesting a mullet.
Just as it seemed that I had hit a dead-end I reached into my pocket, and to my surprise found a note had been shoved in there:
9:00pm tonight, alley behind Woolworth’s
It looked like I finally had a lead worth following up.
At 10 o'clock I found myself waiting behind Woolworth’s, wondering if this whole thing had been a waste of time, when a man, hiding his face beneath the hood of his jacket approached me, remaining in the shadows.
"I had to wait to see if you were serious." He said. "Follow me"
I followed the shadowy figure until we came to a dead end, with a chair placed at the end, and a number of spotlights.
I sat in the chair, and for the first time got a look at the man. He looked just like Paul McCartney.
"Are you.." I started to ask.
"No. I just look at him. Just mul-let it be. Quiet, and mul-let me cut."
As I sat in the chair I became quiet worried. I had no idea whether this backyard barber's scissors had been properly sterilised, or if he'd be able to cut well in such poor light. Before he had a chance to snip at my hair though, torchlight was seen coming around the corner. Quick as a flash he was gone, I was left sitting in the chair, as the torch light came around the corner, revealing a police officer to be carrying it.
I was taken down to the police station, where I was questioned, but let go without charge.
I discovered from the officer, who refused to be named, that there were a number of illegal 'back street barbers' operating in the area, and it was these men that were giving people this black market mullets.
The worrying thing is that there is obviously the desire their in the public to have this hair cut, and both customers and barbers are going to increasingly more dangerous lengths to continue the mullet. Surely it's only a matter of time before the whole operation is pushed underground, where regulators will have no hope of stamping in out at all.
Heh heh. Funny AND clever.
There's nothing wrong with having long hair. Sure, a mullet does look a bit stupid, but if you look at my picture on special observe you'll see I could easily have a mullet, and even more easily be mistaken for actually having one. I have actually had my hair cut since then, but anyway.
And as for low intellect, I'm in a well-off family, I'm clever enough to go to Oxford and I'm not a yokel. No siree.
Anyway, Solid Snake has a mullet. Who could dislike that?
There's nothing wrong with having long hair. Sure, a mullet does look a bit stupid, but if you look at my picture on special observe you'll see I could easily have a mullet, and even more easily be mistaken for actually having one. I have actually had my hair cut since then, but anyway.
And as for low intellect, I'm in a well-off family, I'm clever enough to go to Oxford and I'm not a yokel. No siree.
Anyway, Solid Snake has a mullet. Who could dislike that?
The mullet has long been the hairstyle of the unfortunate, those with a low IQ, and subject to intense ridicule. Having a neck-warmer may be seen as acceptable for rednecks that also like to dance to banjo, but here in the UK it does pose one very serious question: "Who gave you that hair-cut?"
Feeling the need to research this matter further I booked myself an appointment at a local hair stylists, 'Hair Today' secluding a dictaphone about my person to capture the conversation between the stylist, who introduced himself as Kyle, and I:
"Good day Sir, I'm Kyle, and I shall be your stylist, what would you like done today?"
"Well, could you cut it relatively short on top, but leave it long at the back. I don't want my neck getting cold."
"You...want a mullet?"
"Oh, is that what they're called?" (I feign surprise here, in order not to blow my cover)
"I have to go speak to the manager, excuse me Sir."
A few moments later Kyle returned with a heavy-set gentleman, who gestured for me to stand, before speaking.
"I'm going to have to ask you to leave Sir. We cannot cut your hair in THAT style, we're a respectable salon."
At this point I made my excuses and left.
I tried 3 other hairdressers that day, 'Hair We Go', 'Snipples' and a salon specialising in extravagant haircuts, 'Hair Dares'. All three asked me to leave when I asked for a mullet.
Could it be that all those that had mullets had their mother to blame? Maybe it was the mother that feared for her child's ears when placing a pudding bowl on their head, so she only cut the front section, leaving the back to grow long?
As unlikely as it seemed, it was my only lead, until I spotted a caravan in a lay-by. It was a gentleman's barbers. I headed in hoping to find answers. Initially it seemed to be disappointing. None of the men sat waiting for a haircut had mullets and the man sat in the chair was having a respectable short back and sides. I waited my turn, and as expected was asked to leave upon requesting a mullet.
Just as it seemed that I had hit a dead-end I reached into my pocket, and to my surprise found a note had been shoved in there:
9:00pm tonight, alley behind Woolworth’s
It looked like I finally had a lead worth following up.
At 10 o'clock I found myself waiting behind Woolworth’s, wondering if this whole thing had been a waste of time, when a man, hiding his face beneath the hood of his jacket approached me, remaining in the shadows.
"I had to wait to see if you were serious." He said. "Follow me"
I followed the shadowy figure until we came to a dead end, with a chair placed at the end, and a number of spotlights.
I sat in the chair, and for the first time got a look at the man. He looked just like Paul McCartney.
"Are you.." I started to ask.
"No. I just look at him. Just mul-let it be. Quiet, and mul-let me cut."
As I sat in the chair I became quiet worried. I had no idea whether this backyard barber's scissors had been properly sterilised, or if he'd be able to cut well in such poor light. Before he had a chance to snip at my hair though, torchlight was seen coming around the corner. Quick as a flash he was gone, I was left sitting in the chair, as the torch light came around the corner, revealing a police officer to be carrying it.
I was taken down to the police station, where I was questioned, but let go without charge.
I discovered from the officer, who refused to be named, that there were a number of illegal 'back street barbers' operating in the area, and it was these men that were giving people this black market mullets.
The worrying thing is that there is obviously the desire their in the public to have this hair cut, and both customers and barbers are going to increasingly more dangerous lengths to continue the mullet. Surely it's only a matter of time before the whole operation is pushed underground, where regulators will have no hope of stamping in out at all.
Feeling the need to research this matter further I booked myself an appointment at a local hair stylists, 'Hair Today' secluding a dictaphone about my person to capture the conversation between the stylist, who introduced himself as Kyle, and I:
"Good day Sir, I'm Kyle, and I shall be your stylist, what would you like done today?"
"Well, could you cut it relatively short on top, but leave it long at the back. I don't want my neck getting cold."
"You...want a mullet?"
"Oh, is that what they're called?" (I feign surprise here, in order not to blow my cover)
"I have to go speak to the manager, excuse me Sir."
A few moments later Kyle returned with a heavy-set gentleman, who gestured for me to stand, before speaking.
"I'm going to have to ask you to leave Sir. We cannot cut your hair in THAT style, we're a respectable salon."
At this point I made my excuses and left.
I tried 3 other hairdressers that day, 'Hair We Go', 'Snipples' and a salon specialising in extravagant haircuts, 'Hair Dares'. All three asked me to leave when I asked for a mullet.
Could it be that all those that had mullets had their mother to blame? Maybe it was the mother that feared for her child's ears when placing a pudding bowl on their head, so she only cut the front section, leaving the back to grow long?
As unlikely as it seemed, it was my only lead, until I spotted a caravan in a lay-by. It was a gentleman's barbers. I headed in hoping to find answers. Initially it seemed to be disappointing. None of the men sat waiting for a haircut had mullets and the man sat in the chair was having a respectable short back and sides. I waited my turn, and as expected was asked to leave upon requesting a mullet.
Just as it seemed that I had hit a dead-end I reached into my pocket, and to my surprise found a note had been shoved in there:
9:00pm tonight, alley behind Woolworth’s
It looked like I finally had a lead worth following up.
At 10 o'clock I found myself waiting behind Woolworth’s, wondering if this whole thing had been a waste of time, when a man, hiding his face beneath the hood of his jacket approached me, remaining in the shadows.
"I had to wait to see if you were serious." He said. "Follow me"
I followed the shadowy figure until we came to a dead end, with a chair placed at the end, and a number of spotlights.
I sat in the chair, and for the first time got a look at the man. He looked just like Paul McCartney.
"Are you.." I started to ask.
"No. I just look at him. Just mul-let it be. Quiet, and mul-let me cut."
As I sat in the chair I became quiet worried. I had no idea whether this backyard barber's scissors had been properly sterilised, or if he'd be able to cut well in such poor light. Before he had a chance to snip at my hair though, torchlight was seen coming around the corner. Quick as a flash he was gone, I was left sitting in the chair, as the torch light came around the corner, revealing a police officer to be carrying it.
I was taken down to the police station, where I was questioned, but let go without charge.
I discovered from the officer, who refused to be named, that there were a number of illegal 'back street barbers' operating in the area, and it was these men that were giving people this black market mullets.
The worrying thing is that there is obviously the desire their in the public to have this hair cut, and both customers and barbers are going to increasingly more dangerous lengths to continue the mullet. Surely it's only a matter of time before the whole operation is pushed underground, where regulators will have no hope of stamping in out at all.