The wonder-filled world of Mullet...

You are a louse, roaming freely atop the head of your Mullet sporting host... You have, for quite some time now, lived primarily in the town of Middlehead in the land of Mullet, and you are bored, you sigh, allowing your appendages to hang loosely at your sides, making gentle pendulum-like swings with them. You resolve to explore this head of hair in it's entirety, and in the spirit of this resolve, you raise up your hands and call adventurously, "I will explore the unknown!" You set out, creeping boldly to the south, finding, after some length of time, that the southern inhabitants are quite a bit different than those in Middlehead...they are party animals (Oh My!)! they live wildly, loosely, (wiggle loosely) on the edge, in a region where to head south (bend down as you wiggle, like crawling down an incline) means to wander into the unpredictable, where wavy strands of hair end abruptly, without consistency or warning, and to head north (slowly stretch upward, as if climbing) means an ever upward climb, exhausting and long (pant... sigh) Such a precarious station in life has driven them mad! (Oh No!) They shimmy the days away in endless reverie! After shuffling around for a short time, you quickly become tired of the party life, and climb up the long strands (pant), then hop across the flat midlands, waving to Middlehead as you pass (hello!). You soon find however, that the trek northward was quite a bit shorter than the one southward, and that the inhabitants if the north are much the opposite of the south, all business amongst the predictable evenness of the short north hairs (stand stiffly, like strict buisenessman). "Too stiff for me!" you exclaim, and hop on back to Middlehead, where you feel content to never again recall the stupefying lands to the north and south (sigh) "It is good to be home!".