My tattoo has now entered the flaky, itchy stage. Fortunately, that stage generally only lasts for a matter of hours for me, judging by my 11 previous forays into ink. So for today, I’ll look like I’m suffering from some oddly shaped, oddly colored skin disease. Worth it.
But, man, did I take some unexpected shit on the Book of Face for my latest tat. Why, I cannot understand. It’s hardly the first one I’ve gotten, nor the first one I’ve posted about. Nor is it in any way offensive. It’s from a fantasy series, more about that here. However, I’m apparently a trash panda with no class, horrible morals, and disgusting. I’m okay with that.
I truly do not get why people get so up in arms over it. For fuck’s sake, it’s my skin. I’m the one who has to live with it. How does the ink I put on my skin have any affect on anyone else? If I was putting offensive shit on my skin, and displaying it to the world, I’d get it. But while, yes, I display a lot of my tattoos to the world, not a one of them is offensive in anyway. So calm the hell down, Karen. It’s just a tattoo. My tattoo.
So that was fun…
three things… pure randomness
- NHL hockey season has started, and I love my New York Rangers!
- I have the fun task today of collecting a poop sample from my shih tzu for his check-up appointment tomorrow. Really looking forward to it.
- There is a rooster roaming my front yard at this very moment. He’s not mine; he’s an independent rooster. One of many that roam the islands, the result of Hurricanes Iwa (1982) and Iniki (1992) after cages and coops were destroyed, leaving the chickens to run free.
currently
- reading:
- The Witch’s Heart by Genevieve Gornichec
- The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty
- Storm Breaking by Mercedes Lackey
- Freaky Witches by Amanda M. Lee
- Happily Haunted Afters by Brittany Kelley
- listening: True Crime All the Time podcast
- writing: untitled romantic suspense
- making: crocheted wolpentinger stuffy
- loving: Found on NBC
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