You know, I feel some new ink coming on. They tell you that shit is addictive, but I guess I won't really realize that until I'm 85 and tucking my heavily tattooed boobs into my belt (If they would reach that far...wishful thinking I suppose).
To be honest, sitting in a tattoo chair beside a burly guy with scorpions on his ass on the bad side of town just sounds like one of the best ways to spend an afternoon to me. There's something poetic about being someone's canvas. Of course, there's also something poetic about seeing the shock on bankers' faces when they catch a glimpse of it, but I digress.
Anyway, I'll post pictures of whatever I end up getting if I can coax my digital camera into working again. It passed out dramatically when I tried to photograph the new nose piercing with it. I'll try not to take that too personally.
To be honest, sitting in a tattoo chair beside a burly guy with scorpions on his ass on the bad side of town just sounds like one of the best ways to spend an afternoon to me. There's something poetic about being someone's canvas. Of course, there's also something poetic about seeing the shock on bankers' faces when they catch a glimpse of it, but I digress.
Anyway, I'll post pictures of whatever I end up getting if I can coax my digital camera into working again. It passed out dramatically when I tried to photograph the new nose piercing with it. I'll try not to take that too personally.
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Welocme to the NC group.