Turns out, blue tattoo ink is the smeariest, stainiest of all the tattoo inks. So stainy in fact, that I made up “stainy” just to describe it, and “stainiest” to max it out.
I’m leaving blue smears everywhere I go, like a roving toilet bowl monster. I didn’t realize how messy blue was until after I slept on my white sheets. Smurf blood-letting ritual? Nah, just racking out for some solid z’s.
Because the tattoo is so new, the blue is extra smeary, which I’ll admit - isn’t very attractive. Because I have to smear lotion all over it every hour or so, the extra smeary blue becomes smearier and smearier. The snozzberries also taste like snozzberries.
Sometimes you just gotta tangent into some nonsensical alliteration.
Anyway, so then this happened:
“Hey Jessica, my son really wants to get a tattoo. Do you think you could show him yours? Because yours looks like shit, and maybe that’ll scare him out of wanting one. Whatcha think?”
Hmm...well, first - fuck you. And then, no.
So I’ve decided to help all you parents out there, who are just too lost to parent without outsourcing:
If you hate tattoos, and would not be able to rise above you kid getting one, because your love is selfishly conditional on trivial shit, tell your kid that you don’t want him to get one. You can also tell them that if they get one anyway, it’ll be a royal pain in the ass to try to hide if from you for the rest of your lives. If we’re being really honest, that fact alone would have prevented me from one tattoo.
If you’re neutral about tattoos, give your kid the 10 year rule - only get a tattoo of something you have liked for at least 10 years. Now, I don’t mean you have a design all picked out, and then sit on it for 10 years. A 10-year cycle is a decent amount of time to make sure the concept doesn’t fall out of favor.
For example, say it’s 1933, and the Nazis are the coolest thing in patriotism, and ihr pipi kind just begging to get a swastika. Well in 1933, the Nazis seemed kinda harmless right? But when we apply the 10 year rule what happens? That’s right - it’s 1943 and ain’t the Nazis some bullshit!
And if you’re still digging the Nazi lifestyle in 1943, then you’re a hardcore racist and should definitely get a swastika tattoo. Preferably on your face.
But Jessica, the Nazis are kind of an extreme example. Fair point, reader. Let’s try this one:
I loved the shit out of cherry flavored Tylenol when I was a kid, and I definitely would have told you that I wanted a Tylenol bottle tattoo. Except in 1982, someone nutball poisoned bottle of Tylenol.
Good thing I didn’t get that tattoo in 1981! If I had, everyone would’ve thought I was the Tylenol poisoner. Nevermind that I was only 13 months old. If you can walk, you can poison.
So, if your beloved thing has been blemish free for the last 10 years, you’re probably safe. If it was going to falter again, it probably would have done so before the 10 years was up (Michael Jackson and OJ Simpson my emperical evidence to this point).
The blue on my tattoo will eventually stop smearing, but that Ed Hardy logo you had done will always cover you in shame.