Thursday

Smell Ya Later!




Ahh Nadine...
She brought out the worst in me for 6 mutually destructive months. Our relationship was fueled by rage, jealousy, vodka, and about 10 pounds of coke. We finally split up because she said I never listened to her or something.

I always laughed at how the tattoo guy decided to edge the "water" up and off...to give it that photograph feel. The night I told her it looked like the mermaid was checking her deodorant was the first night I slept on the couch. I remember yelling through the bedroom door "You are right...that mermaid could NEVER put deodorant on with that HOOF!!!" It was all downhill from there.






Extra deduction for thinking that because I put you in here, I am trying to get in your pants again. I am married.





What this tattoo says about the wearer:

Another few years of sunlamps, and my shoulders will be ready to be made into handbags.








(Nadine...call me on my cellphone)

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Wednesday

You Are My Sunshine



Jim used to hang around our band's practice room, AKA Russ' basement, and would try to do "sound checks" for us. One night, he even brought a strobe light, which made me dizzy, and nauseous. We were a crappy teenage metal band, that didn't have a singer, a regular bass player, or a name. We hardly needed a lightman/soundman. We needed practice....some talent would have helped, too. I had to explain to him after he re-tuned my drums once, that you don't touch a man's drums, wife, genitals, or Scotch, unless you have the express written consent of Major League Baseball.

Jim's tattoo sucked so hard that we all just kind of pretended it wasn't there. It became the horribly rendered, cross-eyed elephant on his upper arm...I don't know what/who that is supposed to be, or what that is on her forehead..she looks like she needs some sleep though. Those kooky eyes follow you around the room, too. It is pretty creepy.





Extra deduction for letting Ernie Bushmiller do your tattoo.







What this tattoo says about the wearer:

I live with my Grandma.













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Sunday

Zaius Christ





When Derek showed me this tattoo, I didn't know what to think. Was it a joke? Or did he really think J-Chrizzle looks that much like Dr. Zaius?

I decided to hem and haw for a while, and then just come right on out and ask him about it:


So...(hem)...Derek...(haw)...what the fuck is up with your tattoo?
What do you mean?

I mean, it looks like a sleestack...no!...it looks like Cornelius from Planet of the Apes, but with a bald head!
What? Fuck you, man. It is Jesus!

Nope, it is Cornelius. Cornelius-lookin'-muhfuckah. Let me get a picture of that... Have you seen my blog?
Don't you DARE try to put me in that stupid blog of yours!


Oh? You are my next entry...Dr Zaius...and you are going to be speaking in a tiny lavender font.
You are such an asshole.


Touche...



Extra deduction for having the shortest fuse on the planet...(of the Apes)
FUCK YOU!! I will "planet of the Apes" your fuckin' face!



What this tattoo says about the wearer:

Take your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape!

SUCH an asshole.








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Thursday

Ring Around the Rosy



Lauren is a school crossing guard who works the intersection up the road. I met her when I was taking my daily--well monthly constitutional. In the time it took for the light to turn green, I learned a few things about Lauren:
A) She has lots of tattoos.
B)She smoked Parliaments...and lots of 'em.
C) She got off work in 10 minutes.


Well, we went back to my place. I was trying to think of some suave lines, and when I turned to tell her to use an ashtray, I realized she was undressing, and using the ashtray. I appreciated both. I have never been one to kiss and tell, but, yeah...I fucked her...
But I make love to you.






Extra deduction for--Stop giving me that look. We have all made mistakes. It didn't mean anything!! Give me a break!! No, I am never going to see her again!!







What this tattoo says about the wearer:

It was good and dirty. I would do it again.






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Wednesday

Blood In--Freak Out


I met Oswaldo -aka- "Puppet" in Phoenix.
He was an active member of several intramural gangs and a few street thug development programs. So many, that he no longer wore clothing, as all "colors" are now a potential affront to his colleagues. He had been a scrappy, slap-hitting second baseman at Northern Arizona University, but jumped the team, and his scholarship, and his future, when his brother Reynaldo -- aka- "Gummi-Bear" got jumped by some suckas from the Vista Bloods...or maybe it was the Park South Crips...I can't recall, but "they hate all them bitches, mang!"

After Gummi-Bear got jumped, and Puppet came home, they realized that he needed to remember where he came from. So he tattooed his face enough to ensure that he can never leave home.






Extra deduction for breaking your mother's heart.







What this tattoo says about the wearer:

I have alienated myself to gain acceptance...sort of like Dave Coulier












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Monday

We Salute You



One of the funny things about having lots of visible tattoos, is that suddenly, you are the sounding board for tattoo ideas. Strangers constantly tell me about tattoos they want to get... or thought about once... or they know a guy who has something cool tattooed...

Another funny thing, is that lots of these people, are the super-established square dude type. The former 'straight A' students LOVE to reminisce about that time in college when they smoked a bong before class, or that month that they didn't shave, or the copious amounts of beer they consumed in their "wild" days. It is like they want you to know that they have a little renegade in them.

Phil is my dentist. His tattoo is amazing. Really solid design, and the linework is very well done.
This is one of the best tattoos I have ever seen.


Extra deduction for perfection...if that is possible.



What this tattoo says about the wearer:

Nothing bad at all.








Don't forget to floss

Friday

Thighmaster


Jay lived in Fort Erie, Canada. Just across the bridge from Buffalo. When I was a kid, we used to go to Canada all the time, because the drinking age was 19, (you could buy alcohol, and get served in bars if you looked 16) and the strippers got butt-naked. Jay used to sell hash, and I knew a chemistry major at UB who made top-notch acid, and so our friendship was born. Looking back, it was my first international drug ring. It seemed so innocent at the time. Jay would come over to my house, trade me a block of hash for a sheet or 2, and we were all happy. I didn't FEEL like a terrorist.

His tattoo has always made me laugh. Those thighs...the left arm...those pointy boots. The rumor I heard was that Jay got caught crossing the International Train Bridge, with 4 sheets of LSD. The last time I saw him, he was 23 feet tall, and I could taste music.






Extra deduction for making me listen to Rush all the time.
Bonus for not ratting us out. Thanks, "eh".






What this tattoo says about the wearer:

I am a nice boy. This is the fiercest image I could conceive.





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Wednesday

...Except After 'E'



Whether it is a dog barking a warning, a rattlesnake's tail shaking, or crickets chirping, animals are constantly sending messages to each other. Louie is sending a message, too. A message to all "Ho's" that his "Bro's" have his loyalty, and you will always take a backseat.

But won't it be worth it? His doleful convict's gaze, and impeccable dress sense, should make Louie quite the popular item, in 5 to 10 years. And don't worry about that pesky sex offender status. Who wants to live within 1500 yards of a school, park, church, bus stop, restaurant, or any other public gathering place anyway?











Extra deduction for the tribal muttonchops. And that shirt.







What this tattoo says about the user:

I'm a loner, Dottie. A rebel.








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Tuesday

Think Pink



Jenny is my friend Gabe's girlfriend...fiance...whatever. They live in Indianapolis. Jenny spends 16 hours a day, or more, on her myspace page, where her username is HotTat2girl. She collects Hello Kitty shit, and rainbow posters. She always smells like onions. Jenny has one of those yappy little white dogs named Buster. She has sent countless photos to that goddamned Cheezburger site.

She got this bat-winged flamingo because it is the only pink animal she could think of.
When I mentioned that her tattoo didn't have to be pink, in fact, pink is a bad choice, as it will fade... she looked at me like I was a very small, stupid child, and said " But pink is my favorite color."
I pointed out that tattoos don't have to be animals...and if it has to be pink, she could get a heart, or a flower. She told me that would be dumb, and then went back to adding friends.
I guess a flamingo in Indiana makes sense, as it is coastal, and stays hot all year round. The place must be teeming with 'em.






Extra deduction for thinking that putting widgets on myspace means you know HTML.
In a few years, this tattoo is going to look like Nessie, and 2 sticks.






What this tattoo says about the wearer:

Thanx 4 the add.





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Sunday

Hey, Zeus!



This tattoo is on Paul. He is from Buffalo, that is why that turquoise shirt was acceptable to him...
His Jesus has sort of a "Victor/Victoria" thing going on...one side of his beard is all metrosexual, and he has those ruby red lips. His nose is too short, and the eyes are too wide. You can also see the bulge in Jesus' chin, on the metrosexual side, from his plug of Skoal. Jesus looks fresh from the salon, with his curls neatly set. He should not have let Taz tattoo him.

Paul does have some redeeming qualities, although he is about as dumb as a bag of hammers. He is good at driving on ice, and he is a fancy spitter.








Extra deduction for making JC look like a Tesla coil







What this tattoo says about the wearer:

Can I bum a smoke?








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Friday

Maybe he is a Pisces?



I met Ray in a seedy bar in New Orleans. He was a roustabout, or roughneck, or a wrangler...one of those "manly job" guys, whose job title doesn't really tell you what they do. I could tell that Ray wore workboots, and jeans every day, now matter how hot it was. He wore a belt with tools attached to it, and had the most significant set of keys I have ever seen. He must have been really important, to merit entry into so many locked spaces. His complexion looked like the underside of a carpet. Words cannot convey how unsettling it was to watch him (slowly) pull up his jeans for this picture.

I am really not sure what this tattoo is supposed to be...I think I see a fish, but it might be a chicken foot, or an upside down flamingo? It says "MOM" (or "WOW") but that is the only thing I can identify. Maybe this will help...




Nope...guess not.



Extra deduction for playing so many Ted Nugent songs on the jukebox.







What this tattoo says about the wearer:

(Drunken mumbling)...Mom...shickenfishleg...flamingo?








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Thursday

Dual Metal Jak't



This is Donald, and Danald.
These nice boys live down in San Leon, Texas in a sweet tricked out double-wide that they have made into a wood-paneled palace...a shrine dedicated to KISS, and small caliber handguns. Donny (the alpha-twin, with the Peter Criss tat, and bitchin' new jeans) is the wild one of the family, evidenced by his earring ("Only the left ear, I ain't a gay!") and the fact that he got all of his tattoos first. Then shiftless Danny decided to sell his beltbuckle, and bite Donny's rhymes, but got Gene, and KISS in red, just to mix it up a little.


They say you should never judge a book by the cover, and Shake and Bake here are no exception. Donny graduated first in his class, and Danny was homecoming king. Of course, they were home-schooled...but their Mom showed no favoritism. She brought up them boys the best she could after their father ran off to Corpus with that whore. She is also a card-carrying member of the KISS Army among other paramilitary militias.







Extra deduction for the Single White Female 2 (Redneck Boogaloo) vibe.
And for keeping that girl in the trunk in the crawlspace. Let her go, guys.







What this tattoo says about the wearer(s):

Mom always liked you best.








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Tuesday

Mom keeps giving me turtlenecks.


I used to be in a band with Matt. We did grindcore versions of Neil Diamond songs (we were called "I am I Said"...the world was not ready for us) Matt always modified words incorrectly...passing a joint to the right was "traditionary" and doing something to help someone else was "unselfishism". I am pretty sure he had ADHD, but he may just have been a tweaker.

For the first 8 months he had the neck text, the star that attempts to cover his shame was not there, and yes, it covers an "A". Matt left the band after Pete, our bass player, wrote on his neck "For those I love, I will sacrete"(sic) in magic marker.




Extra deduction for trying to play that shit off.






What this tattoo says about the wearer:

I am all bark, and no bite.










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Sunday

Dalton Wept



My old drinking buddy Karl , from Buffalo, got this tattoo of Jesus. It is technically a very good tattoo. The robes look "robey," and the beard looks "beardy." After about 20 shots of Jameson I told him it looked like Jesus was being played by Patrick Swayze, and that it looked like he was playing Cowboys and Indians.

Karl was a good guy, who had a good job. He lived in a really cool apartment, with his girlfriend. Tina was a "cool chick," who was funny, and smart. She was an EMT, who was finishing Medical School.
God, I'd love to nail that little bitch.





Extra deduction for driving me nuts saying "Adios, Amigo" a la Bodhi in "Point Break" before every shot we do now.






What this tattoo says about the wearer:

Nobody puts Baby in the corner.








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Friday

My Kinda Town


I met Jared at a Mastodon show, in Chicago, or "Chi-tonw" which is what the locals evidently call it. Jared (he wanted me to call him "J-Rock"---I would not) was one of those guys who really needs the world to know how tough he is. Our conversation was mostly about how his tattoos didn't hurt him. He "barely felt" his fake Ta moko ... His homage to his hometown did not hurt...Not even his pretty butterfly- I mean his super-tough macho moth creature, with a skull on it.

Jared was drinking that Orange Sparks stuff, (a manly choice) and kept talking about how he beat the living shit out of the guy who did his Chi-tonw tattoo...which he might have done, as he was a big guy, and lots of tattoo artists are skinny guys that draw a lot. After about 10 minutes of talking to him, I could see that he was probably going to take a swing at me, so I decided to move closer to the stage, because I like Mastodon more than I like fighting fat, drunk guys.






Extra deductions for inappropriate moko, and, of course spelling.






What this tattoo says about the wearer:

I am where ignorance meets stupidity.







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