Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Indelibly Stamped
I saw a big hairy biker guy the other day, all sweaty leather jacket, Harley Davison and multiple tattoos, quite a sight, but the thing that struck me most about him was his T-Shirt. It said this:
Word.
Now, I must admit that I should tread very carefully here as, at last I could recall, I have five friends with tattoos, so all I can say to those wonderful people now is: If you think you might not like what I’m about to say, look away now.
Ok, for those of you still reading here we go. Tattoos – what the fucking hell is all that about? I’ve just seen a bloke in the gym. He’s one of those five-foot-and-a-fag-paper types who seem to think if he pumps enough iron and makes his top half wider than his height, women may notice him more. Of course the one thing you can’t increase in the gym is what he craves most – a few more inches where it matters if you know what I mean. No, not on his dick, but under his feet. But I digress. To improve his chances of pulling even further he has body art that could hang in a gallery, and let’s be honest, that where art should be, not down someone’s back. But I'm sure he would beg to differ. He has a flaming TT symbol on his shoulder, a lizard down his back, a coral snake around one arm and a cobra on the other. To top it all he has a 3” round metal curtain ring through his Prince Albert. Amazing – still a midget though, still not getting any. But he’s not the worst.
There’s another bloke – across the small of his back it says “Natasha” and across his shoulders it says “Ryan”. His kids’ names I suppose. In case he ever forgets them. Look, here’s a tip. If you want your kids’ names on your body, put them somewhere you can read them. Then when you’re doing the birthday cards and you need to know, for instance, the boy’s name, you can just have a glance and you have it, rather than having to remove you shirt and have someone else read it to you. Of course you could try looking over your shoulder in the mirror but what if your daughter then got a card wishing AH SATAN a happy birthday? Honestly, please tell me the point of having anything tattooed on your back. HELLO!!! You’re never going to see it!! WHAT’S THE POINT??? What are you going to do, carry a photo of it around with you so when you want to see it you just whip it out of your wallet?
I must confess however that in the past I too have considered a bit of body art. Either an English Rose with shamrock and thistles curled around the stem to represent my mixed heritage, or a skull in a top hat smoking a fag. There was one simple answer as to why I never got them done – not the pain of the needles, not the risk of infection or even the risk that it might not look quite how I imagined. No the reason is because I would look like a wanker.
Consider this: Are you one hundered percent sure that Robbie Williams doesn’t regret “Born to be Mild”? How about Davey Beckham and the Medic Alert symbol on his neck? All will be deeply regretted and possibly painfully removed in the future. But it still possible to top all that. Take a 6’4” shaven headed bloke in my gym. He’s a rower and to be perfectly honest I would sell a liver (I only need one liver) to look like this guy. Until, that is, he steps into the shower and you see his tattoo. It’s on his left buttock, and it caused me to burst out laughing in derision. This 100% beef, Full Fat bloke had, tattooed on his arse:
So people, please. Tattoos are for the Big Hairy Biker Guys and the Armed Forces. If you ride a Hog or kill people for a living go for it. If not use henna, it’ll still look shit but at least it will be gone before you regret it.
Word.
Now, I must admit that I should tread very carefully here as, at last I could recall, I have five friends with tattoos, so all I can say to those wonderful people now is: If you think you might not like what I’m about to say, look away now.
Ok, for those of you still reading here we go. Tattoos – what the fucking hell is all that about? I’ve just seen a bloke in the gym. He’s one of those five-foot-and-a-fag-paper types who seem to think if he pumps enough iron and makes his top half wider than his height, women may notice him more. Of course the one thing you can’t increase in the gym is what he craves most – a few more inches where it matters if you know what I mean. No, not on his dick, but under his feet. But I digress. To improve his chances of pulling even further he has body art that could hang in a gallery, and let’s be honest, that where art should be, not down someone’s back. But I'm sure he would beg to differ. He has a flaming TT symbol on his shoulder, a lizard down his back, a coral snake around one arm and a cobra on the other. To top it all he has a 3” round metal curtain ring through his Prince Albert. Amazing – still a midget though, still not getting any. But he’s not the worst.
There’s another bloke – across the small of his back it says “Natasha” and across his shoulders it says “Ryan”. His kids’ names I suppose. In case he ever forgets them. Look, here’s a tip. If you want your kids’ names on your body, put them somewhere you can read them. Then when you’re doing the birthday cards and you need to know, for instance, the boy’s name, you can just have a glance and you have it, rather than having to remove you shirt and have someone else read it to you. Of course you could try looking over your shoulder in the mirror but what if your daughter then got a card wishing AH SATAN a happy birthday? Honestly, please tell me the point of having anything tattooed on your back. HELLO!!! You’re never going to see it!! WHAT’S THE POINT??? What are you going to do, carry a photo of it around with you so when you want to see it you just whip it out of your wallet?
I must confess however that in the past I too have considered a bit of body art. Either an English Rose with shamrock and thistles curled around the stem to represent my mixed heritage, or a skull in a top hat smoking a fag. There was one simple answer as to why I never got them done – not the pain of the needles, not the risk of infection or even the risk that it might not look quite how I imagined. No the reason is because I would look like a wanker.
Consider this: Are you one hundered percent sure that Robbie Williams doesn’t regret “Born to be Mild”? How about Davey Beckham and the Medic Alert symbol on his neck? All will be deeply regretted and possibly painfully removed in the future. But it still possible to top all that. Take a 6’4” shaven headed bloke in my gym. He’s a rower and to be perfectly honest I would sell a liver (I only need one liver) to look like this guy. Until, that is, he steps into the shower and you see his tattoo. It’s on his left buttock, and it caused me to burst out laughing in derision. This 100% beef, Full Fat bloke had, tattooed on his arse:
So people, please. Tattoos are for the Big Hairy Biker Guys and the Armed Forces. If you ride a Hog or kill people for a living go for it. If not use henna, it’ll still look shit but at least it will be gone before you regret it.
# posted by Bucko! @ 2:55 PM 
