Thursday

Sweepin' the Clouds Away



Dave had made it clear that he was getting his kid tattooed on his arm. I told him he should wait until Maury tells him he is the father, for sure, but that fell on deaf ears.


Hey Dave.
Hey. I got that tattoo. You wanna see it?


Oh, you know I do.
OK, but it ain't finished yet. It still needs color.


Well. Dave, I didn't know that your wife was a Muppet.
WHAT?!

You know, a Muppet. Sesame Street?--The Muppet Show? A Muppet, man.
What the fuck are you talking about? I know what a fuckin' Muppet is.

Yes...Clearly.
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(Prolonged silence)


So, what color is she going to be? Blue? Orange?
Dude, What is it with you and Muppets today?









Photo courtesy of Dean's iPhone. Dean is a total iPenis.









Yeah!! like her, see? That Muppety mouth, the same vacant stare.
Well, I told you, it ain't finished.

Do you guys sing lots of songs about numbers, and letters...

Fuck off.

...Or do they outgrow it?

Bye, Dave.








Extra deduction for the Olan Mills pose.








What this tattoo says about the wearer:

Dave's tattoo was brought to you by the letter P, and the number 2.










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Friday

Paradise Lost



Every year, my wife and I go to South Africa, to visit her family. After the pharmaceuticals clear my system, (I need them to fly) I like to get started on my holiday drinking. I met Kerwin in a really shady shithole bar in Capetown, and we had an interesting conversation about tattoos, sex, and life. When he showed me his tattoos, I told him that nobody would ever mistake them for art, which he took as a compliment, in spite of it being such an obvious insult.

He became visibly agitated when I suggested that the "Paradise for Virgins" above his crotch might apply to his Superman symbol shaped navel as well...and tried to stick my thumb in it, to illustrate my point. Then I got a little gaggy from the thought. I had to buy him about 5 rounds to settle him down, to avoid a holiday stabbing. I never even mentioned the one on his belly that reads "she was a [sic] untrustable [sic] women[sic]" as it made me uncomfortable on several different levels.

We are home now, (and had a lovely vacation, thanks for asking)
and the handful of pills return flight jet-lag has pretty much worn off.





Extra deduction for the whole creepy torso.






What this tattoo says about the wearer:

I like it rape-y.





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Thursday

Swanson Warrior



This guy used to drink in my bar. I don't know his real name--he had big nostrils, like Babe Ruth, so we called him 'Chunnel'. He was a lousy tipper.



So, Chunnel, heard you got a new piece. Let's see it.
(Proudly) OK, check it out.

Alright...so kind of a warrior...sort of Boba Fett meets an Aztec warrior...with Moon Boot-sandals.
No, it is from "Spartan Warrior"...the game.

Oh. Why does he carry the big pie?
Pie? That is his shield.

It looks just like a pot-pie...It even has the crimping around the edge of the crust.
It is a shield, that has been through battle. See? Those are battle scars.

No, they are the "one inch slits in crust, to allow steam to vent."
(no response)


Is HE the Pie-man from Simple Simon? I always pictured him as being a lot less mean, ya know? Kind of chubby and happy.
(pouting/frowning)

I like his skirt, though.
Fuck you, man.






Extra deduction for leaving before I could do any Sparta/Spartan jokes. Wuss.





What this tattoo says about the wearer:

I sure do like pie.





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