KIMBO SLICE

I had a dream last night.

In this dream I was with Stuart and I had decided that I was going to get a tattoo. (I've been thinking about getting one again) The tattoo that I was keen on was going to be a white ink tattoo, so I called up my friend Jonesy and asked him about his. In the dream he lifted up his shirt and showed me where the big star should have been on his belly. He also had a rippling six pack in the dream that I don't think is there in real life. I couldn't see any ink in his skin, so that sealed it for me. I was going to get a tatt.

Stuart and I headed off to the parlour which wasn't on some urban street, but was in at someone's house out at like Chandler or something. The room where the work was to be done had double sliding glass doors out into the backyard that was overgrown with vines and trees and didn't look very hospitable. It also looked very hot out there.

When the tattooist came into the room he had a lot of very dodgy tattoos. Some were with a blue ink, most of them were little more than scribbles and doodles that had faded on his skin. He had a tattooed on version of a Chelsea grin which was kind of creepy.

He asked me what type of tattoo I was after. I told him that I wanted to get a square done in white ink on my hip. I wasn't sure if I wanted a 2cm square or a 1cm one. Or whether I wanted it filled in or just an outline. I asked him what he thought. Then I asked him about where he had received most of his own tattoos. He started talking about how he had them done when he was in Korea and Vietnam during the wars.

He asked me to show him where I wanted to get it done. I pulled down my pants and had a hard time showing him exactly where I wanted it done. I couldn't figure out where would be best. I wanted it to be hidden if I was wearing underpants, but the pair that I had on were a high cut pair, and I couldn't figure out where normal underpants would go. Eventually I made a choice.

The tattooist had a look at the area, placed some of the ink on my skin, then started the gun up. He told me that I was too sweaty and wiped me down, then he placed the gun against my skin.

Then I woke up.

It was a bit of a weird sort of a dream. I normally can't recall what goes on in my head when I'm asleep, but I could this time. I thought that I would write it down.

I probably would get a tattoo if I knew that it would fade away over time. I just can't seem to commit to any idea for a lifetime. That's a sad indictment on myself, but it's just the way that it is.