This is an article i was asked to do for a local magazine. Please feel free to insert fuck and kick ass every few sentences. Then it should sound more like me.
Tattoos are now available on Main Street. This makes me very happy. I love watching people get them. I’ve been sitting out side of the new tattoo shop, sucking down beers and watching it all go down. I enjoy seeing the pain and agony with never a wavering doubt that people getting tattoos have. They want this on their body for the rest of their life and they want it right now. I admire their conviction and commitment to their ideas and the fact they can live with a drawing on their body forever. I can barley commit to a cell phone company, much less something that would be on me for the rest of my life.
If I did get a tattoo It would be the little guy from Fantasy Island, Tattoo. You know that little midget guy in a suit that screamed when a plane was coming in. I’d put him right on my chest and walk around with my shirt off everyday. Everyone would look at me and say, ” Wow, check out that awesome Tattoo tattoo. That guy kicks ass.” I would officially have the coolest tattoo ever. I could make plane jokes all night long, wiggle my chest to make it look like he was dancing, I would pick up dumb sorority girls impressed with my Tattoo tattoo dancing skills. I would eventually be invited on talk shows that are aired in the afternoon on the WB or CW (or what ever they call it now) to show off my awesomness. I would rule. I guess that’s why I don’t get tattoos, every time I think of getting one, these are the thoughts in my head.
I remember for a while there it was super sheik to get Chinese or Japanese or Outer Mongolia symbols on your body. It was all so someone could ask “So, what does that mean?” The douche bag with the Asian character proudly displayed where everyone could see it would say, “ It means Strength of Soul.” Or something else retarded like, “Oh that’s the Tibetan symbol of peace.” This brilliance coming from a guy with a two-sided beer hat on his head, roided out screaming at a Cleveland Browns game every Sunday. Strength of Soul my ass.
I always wanted to get a Chinese tattoo that said Chicken Fried Rice, so when a hot young bleach blonde collegey looking girl came up and checked out my pipes and saw my super cool symbol tattoo and said, “What does that mean?” I could look her in the eye and whisper “Chicken Fried Rice” That would be hot. She would want my symboled cover arms, because I was deeper than deep, I was special #46. She would love me long time.
Isn’t it great that tattoos are easy ways to identify people. Dolphin tattoo equals lesbian. Tattoos on lower back of a chick equals tramp. Barbed wire on upper arm of dude equals douche bag . Maybe we should all get tattoos. That way the guessing game would be out the window and we would know exactly what we were getting right off the bat. No messing around.
Tattoos are wonderful and I cannot wait to see more of them now that we have two cool tattoos shops on Main Street. They are people’s artwork, symbols of their life, little windows in to their soul. Or just fun drawings to make college looking blonde chicks dig you. I bet if I got Tattoo tattoo on my chest with his own tattoo of Chinese symbols, that I would really kick ass. Everyone would know what a nut job I really am. I could scream at Cleveland Browns games with pride, shaking my chest while screaming “Da Plane Da Plane!” All the hot collegy looking chicks would think my Dancing Tattoo was deep and symbolic, but all he would really be, is chicken fried rice
