so i have new ink coming up, my thirteenth, i think. if i wasn't universally fuzz-recognisable before, i sure as shit will be with an abstract arabesque and a ritual kris around my right eye socket... i've been painting abstract crap on there for months, anyhow, so it's not like anyone won't have seen it before. i'm pretty sure the only adverse reactions will come from my roommate, who's not often exposed to this sort of thing, and my mother, who will like as not take a tissue out, gob on it and try to use it to wipe the tattoo off my face as if i was seven and covered in Twix. upon finding out that it consists not of suspiciously skilfully applied face paint but subdermal pigmentation, i expect she'll hit me pretty fucking hard... c'est la vie.

i suppose i can always pretend i fell asleep in the studio and sue the shit out of my tattooist.

regardless, another reason for me never to have a real job. whilst waiting around for my preview of the final design in the studio, however, i overheard a few things - nothing new, but the red lens of my medication makes me want to kill people who say stupid things these days. this includes, but is not limited to, the following:

- So what are you, some sort of Goth?
- (speaking to the poor tattooist) I want a [heart/angel/star/rose/fairy/hideous rendering of my child's likeness which will lead to her disowning me in the future just to stop being associated with it/bad Latin phrase which will make Lepht froth at the mouth with the effort of not correcting my awful uninformed grammar/misspelled English cliche/football logo].
- I want one like [celebrity].
- Have you got a pattern book? [it says 'custom studio' on the door...]
- Aw, is this your first tattoo? [because it's not like i look about thirty-five and haggard as hell, besides being covered in ink, or anything.]
- Ha ha, you look rough, son. [i know.]
- I wanted [x], but my ma will only let me have [y], could you draw that? [why would you have something you don't really want drawn on you, for fuck's sake?!]

yeah i pretty much lose all rationality while i'm adjusting to new meds.



Dragan said...

I sympathize. Nothing like watching kids go into a studio, point at the wall like a three year old at the toy store and saying "I want that one."

Lepht said...

i know, i know. fucking emo kids coming in covered in those fucking stars, saying they want a swallow on their lower back... makes me wanna smack somebody.

"I wanted something with flowers? Like roses, around my hip?" AAA FUCK YOU


Tilka said...

statements that sound like questions? they piss me off sooo much?? "multiple question marks," he went on, shaking his head, "are a sure sign of an immature mind???"

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[pls no ask about the vodka. debate is always welcome. remember, Tramadol fucks you up]