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�  i saw one of these a couple days ago in a gas station. i trembled in its prescence, my knees began to buckle, and i stared in amazement. i was not worthy to gaze upon his fine mane, but it was a magnet to my eyes. i reached out to touch it, but an invisible force field of mulletude repelled my hand. i knew i had a brush with death that day. my years of mullet hunting experience had taught me to always observe your quarry from afar, and never interfere. but, i could not help myself. he slapped the money down on the counter angrily, as only a meximullet could. he bought his beer, and with head up high, marched out of the store. i envy his manliness. the store clerk and i made eye contact. not a word was spoken. we both knew we had a brush with greatness. i looked out the window, and as the meximullet was getting in his el camino, he looked back at me. i shat myself. ill never be the same again. |