'Tis a fine thing, a mullet

I saw a most handsome specimen from the window of my streetcar on my way home (Koei event -- avec gifts!).

It was a male version of the species, the upper levels fluffy and bouffant, but yet not feathered back. No apparent hair product used. The hair itself was streaked salt-and-pepper style, while the long stresses went halfway this fellow's back, trimmed neatly and bluntly.

'Twas hard to miss, and I silently applauded this veteran of the '80s.

Was also treated to a serenade for half my streetcar ride -- by a fellow who sang loudly, clearly and pointedly about how Satan was a loser, and he was going to ruin Satan's day because Satan couldn't make him be quiet. Then as he headed for the doors, he got close to some poor woman and sang about how he loved to ruin Satan's day, and her day too, because she was obviously sad and blue.

Sometimes it's hard to keep a straight face among the Toronto crazies. Fortunately, I had a build of Infected to play on my PSP, so I just kept shooting the hell out of zombies.

Because Satan can't make me put down me video games. Satan is a loooo-ser.