Tattoo you.

I have a ball cap that reads “Scars Are Tattoos With Better Stories”. I like that hat ’cause I generally believe this to be true since most tattoos are generally the result of something that seemed like a good idea at the time and scars tend to be something else entirely.

But’cha know what? I was walking down one of the main thoroughfares of the hospital last week and I ended up stalled behind a radiologist leading this frail little old lady down the hallway to MRI. Teeny and tiny, she was probably all of 80 lbs. sopping wet.

As I got closer and tried to pass them I noticed that this frail little old granny lady had blurred, bleary, tired old tattoos on her arms and legs. And I was like, wow, that’s weirdly interesting. Then she accidentally dropped her crumpled pack of cigarettes and when she bent over to pick them up, her ill-fitting KISS t-shirt drooped away from her scrawny chest and I saw she had tattoos on her shriveled up old lady boobs too.

Ewww. I WAS SO NOT LOOKING AT HER BOOBS, OK?

But so anyway.

So I passed them by and moved on with my life and presumably they moved on with theirs but it made me wonder- what kinda strange and possibly interesting life had that little old lady led that had resulted in all those now indistinct blue-black blobby tattoos?

Maybe sometimes tattoos can have a good story too, ya know?

I mean, c’mon, who doesn’t wanna know HER story?

Don’t lie.

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4 responses to “Tattoo you.

  1. Dear lord…there are no words.

  2. I love tattoos. I’m gonna get my second any day now. My mom said if I do, I’ll look like a low class whore. No shit. She actually said that. (The same woman who showed off my first tattoo to her colleagues! And that tattoo has a nipple showing! Gasp!)

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