I’ve never really understood our generation’s infatuation with tattoos. Did I miss a memo? My brother and sister, who have not spoken to each other for ten years, have independently acquired almost identical celtic crosses on their upper right arms. Whoever tells them, it’s not going to be me.
Whatever. Tired of swimming against the tide, I have finally succumbed and gotten myself what was meant to be a bucking bronco, but inevitably more closely resembles My Little Pony. I even had a scroll added with “Ride ‘Em Cowboy” on it to distinguish it more clearly, but that has only made matters worse, given where it’s located.
According to the terms of their injunction, I am now required to point out that I am not affiliated with Mattel in any way. Damn them and their legalistic quibbles.
So, what tattoos do you have?
This was not what I had in mind, dammit!
16 comments:
Well, since you asked, I am ever so happy to talk about myself. That'll learn ya.
No Tramp Stamp, but I do have a tattoo on my left butt cheek. It's a red rose and a blue rose, with leaves, entertwined, with a scroll going over it, that has the Spouse Sparrow's name on it. Very traditional, and impossible to view unless my gunties are off. I am one classy dame, you know, and it wouldn't do to give people the wrong idea.
At least now they can do pretty colours instead of that Popeye blue. I would only have a tattoo now to cover a blemish. It was months before I forgave myself for having pierced ears. When you get to the state of play of Robbie Williams I think something else is afoot.
BTW Ivan : do you ever have night mares of siblings reading your blog? I do!
Not so much, Pi. They're both waaaaay smarter than me. Wouldn't be caught dead reading a blog... :)
No tattoos here. I once had a discussion with a contemporary and he said he thought our generation's aversion to same was based upon thumbing our noses at our dads, who all returned from WWII with tattoos.
Now, of course, the next generation looks at our unmarked skin and says, "to heck with you and your propriety; I'm getting a purple dolphin on my ass."
Cheers.
Oh, God. Et tu, Iohanne?
I was pondering the issue, until I read Teddy's verdict on the art of smudging your flesh. After that, it was an absolute no no. Sorry to ruin everybody's morning.
Really, Des - do I strike you as the My Little Pony type of guy?
Sgt Savage, on the other hand - now that's tempting...
I tried to comment last night but blogger wasn't having it.
Nope. Nothing on me. I learnt from a few friends of mine: tattoo at haste, repent at leisure.
Listening to people bang on about their tattoos in bars is one of the more dull things that can happen on a night out. Unless they have a really unusual one or a good story that doesn't begin, "well one night I was sooooooooooooo drunk and...", and most people just don't.
So you are lying - you tease?
Lying? Lying? Was Michelangelo lying when he painted the Sistine Chapel? Was Cervantes when he wrote Don Quixote? And Rodin when he sculpted The Fallen Caryatid? I think not!
I prefer to think of it as creativity, my dear. Art imitating life, if you will...
Well said, Canty. Might be true for Cervantes, too, if his reputation for liking his wine is accurate.
I have a tattoo of a big cock on my left arm.
Oh Banana - I can't take you anywhere!
Tut tut, Pi - I can think of several places where you can take a guy with a big cock on his arm, pictorial or otherwise...
I have a tattoo but I didn't ask for it. The bloody bone biopsy surgeon put it there while I was incapacitated. You'd think they'd warn you. It's deep too, goes all the way to the bone.
Luckily the people who are ever going to see it can be counted on one hand.
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