The world was aflame in anarchy and Samson like agony the last few weeks as everyone’s favorite mulleted hero apparently trimmed his strengths off for his nuptials. Yes, it was reported widely that Minnesota Vikings defensive end Jared Allen cut his mullet off and seemingly there was photographic evidence to prove it. But as we’ve learned with such things as Helicopter Shark, not everything you see on the internet is as it appears. PJD was able to obtain an exclusive interview with The Mullet itself and talk about it’s alleged disappearance and summer plans …
PJD: Mullet, thank you so much for sitting down with me. I know you’ve had a tough couple of weeks here. You made a brief appearance on The Gally Blog last week, sharing words of fire and anger that really seemed to hint towards a bitter divorce with Jared Allen, but what can you tell us about what really happened?
Mullet: … Am I seriously talking with some bowl cut looking pig fucker right now? Where the real reporters, or at least that Vikings Gab set of tits, Laylay Onamie or whatever her name is? I gotta talk with you? This is some shit. Ok, listen pasty face, yes, Jared and I had a pretty nasty public divorce, but a lot of it was misguided. He pulled me aside after our initial shaving and had some very interesting plans for me, something your hairless donkey ass probably wouldn’t understand.
PJD: Fair enough. I haven’t shaven in seven days and do have nary a shade of tuft on my cheeks. But perhaps our readers would be interested in your back story. Plans you say, what plans?
Mullet: Oh, it’s about to get saxy in here.
See, dick cheese, I’m not disappearing forever, I’m just moving down south. I’m taking the summer off. Instead of sweating in the hot sun on the back of his redneck …. Neck … I’m heading down to South Beach for a while, then hitting up the Keys, Cancun, Mazatlan, and then Santa Monica for the summer where nothing but a thong bikini bottom. Sure, some people may simply call this that cunt’s idea of a honeymoon, but imagine how freaked out she’s going to be when Jared Allen and I walk out looking like this:
God we look good. Like Sharon Stone after Labor Day. Or a newborn Serbian child in his first diaper. Or a washed up Guido on Jersey Shore for his 75th birthday. Or Brad Childress after he and his wife …
PJD: I get it mullet, just go on.
Mullet: Oh, it’s going to be fucking awesome. It’s exactly what Jared and I needed; a little R and R my friend, with my Mulleted self starting a new revolution, a SAXY revolution. So don’t worry. I’ll be back come football season and things will be just fine. I’ll be rejuvenated and smelling of urine, salt water, and spoiled garbage. That’s what yeasty vaginas smell like, yes? Whatever. Not like you’d know. Enjoy humping your body pillows throughout July though, anal fissure. I’m gon’ get mine.
PJD: … Thank you for this, Mullet. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go burn out my eyes now.
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