A blog solely devoted to the building up of an almost completely silly but ironically significant entity created by shear spontaneity on a late night whim. Boots, Staches, Sweaters...and really anything else we think contributes to a healthy society. We like to call it the BSS.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Mullet Tragedy

Well...The rescue mission on my mullet started off well, but ended in tragedy.  A dear friend of mine went to work on it once I escaped the hands of my brothers and made it back to Provo.  However, we were under time constraints and weren't able to completely finish the job.

As a result, I tried finishing it on my own.  While I could come up with several valid excuses like, the buzzer cord was too short and made the angle awkward, the lighting was poor, yada yada yada, let's face it.  I've never really cut my own hair before, and catastrophic mistakes were inevitable.

Once I saw that I had a mohawk running along the top of my head, and a yarmulke of hair covering the crown, I caved and just buzzed it.




I have to admit, a truly devoted BSS member would have endured the shame and kept whatever was left of the mullet.  However, in a moment of weakness (and perhaps social consciousness) I conformed to some degree of normality.

As reconciliation though, I've put together a lil' home video of the Mullet Makeover I first experienced at my home under the hands of my dear brothers.  I hope you enjoy.

Brenton


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IN8gFNPrAdg

5 comments:

  1. Hahahaha...somebody had a little too much time on their hands ;) It looks like you guys had a lot of fun, though. I love the pictures, and the video...I have no words to describe how amusing I found your video. Great job at capturing the experience of your most recent haircut!

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  2. Thank you. It was quite the experience. However, if you value your hair much at all, I don't recommend getting it cut by unexperienced older brothers posing as an effeminate German.

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  3. It goes with the Charlie Brown sweater you're wearing.

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  4. That's called argyle Cory...and very popular with the ladies. Sometimes I don't even dare wear it. Too dangerous.

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