Tatowieren - To Tattoo

I’ve got a great idea. I’ll go see a guy who’ll stick in a needle and stab me a pretty picture under an exposed patch of skin somewhere on my body. And it’ll be permanent too. Oh, and chances are I’m only going through with it because my friends have them too and I want to fit in. Just as well the same Chinese symbol or barbwire arm ring are on offer. Yippee! I’m like so expressing my individuality. Are you fuck. Not to be too judgemental, but people who get inked are generally complete idiots whose primary objective is fitting in with their equally idiotic friends or making a rebellious statement, sticking two fingers up at their oh-so-shitty parents. I accept that some people get significant icons, pictures or symbols - genuinely individual artwork, and to those people I’m quite indifferent. Sure, go for it. At least you’re thinking about it and not just eternally staining yourself for a thumbs-up from your mates or an up-yours to your mum. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not objecting on moral or spiritual grounds, it just offends me when daft pricks take inky pricks without thinking of how it might turn out in the future. A drooping, bingo-wing-warped chain, circumventing a saggy bicep isn’t that attractive. Neither is the logo of that latest hip and happening pop band tattooed on your navel. Chances are they’ll have disappeared before the skin’s healed and next time you get naked with someone you’ll be ridiculed out of the bedroom. I’m not against living in the here and now, but you have to cast at least a fleeting glance toward the years to come, especially with body-altering procedures. Otherwise you could well end up rueing the day you got ‘I’m a massive twat’ in Chinese inscribed down your massively twatty back.