If you’ve read my stuff for any length of time, you know the vividly horrific story behind my shoulder tattoo, and my embarrassed self-loathing I do at myself whenever anyone sees it.
If you’re new or whatever, this is it, all oiled up and stuff for you.
The time has come, at long last, to finish this mistake once and for all.
I’ve talked to people several times over the years about what to do about this monstrosity.
The removal options are bad – since it’s been done three times already and there’s scarring to boot, it just won’t look right.
I asked one tattoo artist about putting a roman numeral XIV over it, the rationale being that I could make up different stories every time someone asked me about the deep, hidden meaning of my ancient number tattoo.
This wasn’t going to be doable either, and every other tattoo artist suggested things that just wouldn’t work for me.
I always make this clear before these conversations – my number one option would be for it to not be there at all anymore.
Starting from there, I’m not sure how these people come to, “How about like a cool snake that’s on fire and goes from your shoulder all the way around your chest, and then is flowing into a skull that’s on your back, and it’s the skull of a naked booty stripper?”
Anyway, after many years and much thought, I am giving up…and that’s what this new version of the tattoo will represent.
Inevitably, someone will try and make it artistic or special or whatever.
No, no, nay, nay, booty.
I don’t want it planned or artistic or meaningful – I want it to look like someone scribbled over it in frustration…like which is what I feel about it with my special heart that is inside me.
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Okay so the other day I posted that stuff about how the dude couldn’t see the moon because of the workout supplement he was taking.
I guess I was confused, because @The_Real_LLC read it as the guy just couldn’t see the sky or something.
The one thing I know for sure is that this guy’s log of his experience is amazing.
Some more:
Vision side effect, I went to bed I couldn’t see a thing, the window blinds were open and there was light outside, but whatever spot I looked at it went dark but I could see from the side of my eye, for example if I looked at the widow directly there was nothing, but as soon as I rotated my eyeballs away from the window I could see it clearly.
my biceps are sore more than ever and I am loving it.
That last sentence is an LOL for sure, but I still don’t understand how this works.
i just got back driving over one hour at night, a little uncomfortable because all the incoming headlights looked yellow tinted and was confusing especially looking in the rear view mirror
Seriously – I thought in the other entry he couldn’t see when he was looking at something?
PS. I didn’t get enough sleep last night due to the energy drink, so I felt really tired today and somewhat lightheaded, but tomorrow is chest day and I’m ready to rip it up
Oh.
i went outside while the lights were off and tripped over a chair, it hurt like son of a b—h, even my son who was walking with me looked at me like (how in the hell you didn’t see that chair!)
Kids are so silly – don’t they know daddy is getting big and strong.
just wanted to report about my vision, the moon was so bright last night according to my wife, she said the whole room was lit, well i couldn’t see a thing, i couldn’t even see where the window was
This next one is also interesting, although not vision-related.
The new [redacted] tastes different, kind of like fiberglass glue, not that I tasted fiberglass glue, but it tastes like the smell of fiberglass
: /
Whatever – regardless of whether this stuff works, I need to understand how this vision side effect works. It seems there’s not just a problem with the moon, but also with seeing windows.
Should I try this stuff or not? I’m still waiting for Mommy to get in touch telling me not to – she may have stopped reading the blog again.
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As you may or may not know, long ago I was a personal trainer, a brief gig that sprung mainly from my love for health and fitness.
During that time, I tried probably every nutritional supplement possible, and even now continue to keep an eye on the newer stuff coming, some of which might be deemed “borderline legal”.
It’s rooted in a longing I have to be offered a role where they’re like, “This pays a lot of money and it’s yours, but we need you to put on 20 pounds in two months.”
When that happens, I’ll call and apologize to my mom, then speed-race to the nearest steroid dealer I can track down with more excitement than anyone has ever done anything with.
Anyway, there’s an interesting product swirling around that surely will be banned sooner rather than later.
Perusing a message board where some people are trying it out, apparently there’s a small vision-based side effect that accompanies the ingestion of said product.
Here are some posts made by users.
Occasional blurred vision side [effects] are still something that will have to be taken in account till there is a sure fire way to either stop it or lower the chance of getting it.
Slight and occasional blurring. Annoying, but somewhat mild really.
I did have a blurred vision. It wasn’t much but I remember having to concentrate more to focus on things. I also had a vision sides during the day – yellow tint, color cycling and a definite blurring.
What.
i don’t think any of us experienced blurred vision, we only lost the ability to see farther at night; we could only see where the light was aiming at. also it took longer to adjust from light to dark places, and at night we couldn’t see the sky even with a full moon.
Oh.
God.
BUT DID IT MAKE YOU BIG AND STRONG.
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(Click to enlarge pic.)
Hey so Denny over at WFNY sent me this Blame Drew’s Cancer screenshot, and the following note:
I haven’t been on BDC for a while so I looked at it after you tweeted about it. Your tweet popped up and I took a screenshot. Thought it’d make you laugh.
If you’re not familiar with the program, Drew has cancer and like is able to do stuff about it that doesn’t involve moping and/or being defeated.
Also, Denny feels close enough to the entire program to refer to it as BDC, and is one of those “two spaces after a period” people.
I’m not in the former category, and will never be in the latter, but Drew’s endeavor reminds me of the various times I’ve been convinced I had cancer.
1) In high school after we had the testicular cancer lesson in Health Class. I was totally positive, to the point that I asked my parents to get me a doctor appointment.
The family doctor was the father of a friend, and I’m pretty sure there was a conversation at their house shortly thereafter about, “Hey, that Spaeth kid thought he had cancer.”
This is how I got voted “Most Likely to Think He Has Cancer” sophomore year.
2) A few weeks after I got that award, I was feeling a lot of pressure to live up to it, so I went back to the doctor to ask him if he could just tell his son I was in with more cancer paranoia. As luck would have it, there was a spot on my neck he thought I needed to get checked out.
Turned out it was just embedded dirt, but for a day or two I was sure I had skin cancer.
3) Just last week, I coughed really hard and my arm hurt, so I thought I had arm cancer. Still waiting on the diagnosis, but someone told me your entire arm can’t get cancer, so hopefully it’s a stress fracture.
Are you a member of the Who Shot Mamba? Facebook Page, and have you ever thought you had cancer.
Please do tell, and be raw and real about it, like I am.
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I’m actually really wiped out from this surgery and probably overdid it yesterday, so I’ma take it easy today. My brain is kinda dead…no jokes or thoughts are happening. I also have to go back to the doctor for inspection.
I was gonna write up my idea for a water-park style playland that’s made of dirt, but I just don’t have it in me. For now, enjoy this picture from Reid Gershbein, aka @thraveboy – he made the film “Here. My Explosion…” that I looked at back here.
That’s the happiest picture on Earf!
While I’m resting, can you tell me the happiest picture you’ve ever take in your life? If you’re more of a miserable sort, how about the saddest picture you’ve ever taken?
Link to either if you can – I’ll send my favorite a free copy of Prelude to a Super Airplane – I just got a shipment, so I’m sitting on a bunch.
(You can follow Inflatable Ben from WSM? right here on Twitter – I think he’ll be out hunting booty babes in his own smooth fashion.)
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So I lived through my surgery, and of most fixation, my nose is straight for the first time since mid-2002.
If there’s a WSM? sequel, it’s gonna be my Mark Hamill moment.
The whole thing was pretty fun, and the sheer joy I felt at checking out from the world to the sweet embrace of anesthesia was amazing.
My face is swollen, but I’m off the painkillers and have a working brain again. I’ve had surgery twice in my life, and both times, as I’m laying down on the operating table, I’ve started laughing. It’s for no particular reason – I’m not like thinking about anything specific.
There’s just something about the whole casual nature of it that gets me. Like, “Okay, just lay down there, and we’re gonna knock you unconscious and cut you open with some of these sanitized knives.”
Both times the doctor has asked what I was laughing at, and both times I’ve just kinda shook my head, and been like, “Nothing – let’s do some operating.”
When was the last time you had surgery? Funny? No? Yes?
(Follow the Orange Roundie on Twitter here. That’s right.)
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(The following is an excerpt from my book, Prelude to a Super Airplane. It can be purchased by clicking on any of the roughly 400 banners adorning this site, or by clicking here. It’s also available on Amazon.
I’ve posted the first 20 chapters (roughly 55 pages of PTSA) on this site. Links to each of those are at the end of this post, or you can download all of them as a pdf by clicking here.
Dr. Ramie Fromica stared at the walls and walls of books that lined her fancy, five-walled psychiatry office.
She loved to read, which is why she had so many walls. Without this vast amount of wall space, there was no way she’d have room to store all her books.
Nathan Hamm was lying on her fancy psychiatry sofa, and Dr. Ramie Fromica was thankful that his hour was almost up. Nathan Hamm was, in Ramie’s eyes, a raw, savage human being, not unlike her husband.
[Like here is how to read the rest.]
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(The following is an excerpt from my book, Prelude to a Super Airplane. It can be purchased by clicking on any of the roughly 400 banners adorning this site, or by clicking here. It’s also available on Amazon.
I’ve posted the first 20 chapters (roughly 55 pages of PTSA) on this site. Links to each of those are at the end of this post, or you can download all of them as a pdf by clicking here.
Jennifer Cormier was born into fitness model royalty.
Her father was the famous fitness model, Julian Cormier, and her mother was the even more famous fitness model, Jennifer Cormier, Sr. That her parents shared a last name was pure coincidence, but caused there to be no shortage of jabber in the fitness model gossip newspapers when they married.
Jennifer’s younger brother, Julian Jr., was also a fitness model. He was practically a clone of their father, and the jabber in the online internet fitness model gossip blogs was that he actually was a clone of their father. The distribution conduit had changed, but Jennifer’s parents always laughed that the industry hadn’t: fitness models loved their gossip.
Current jabber also focused on Jennifer, because rumors were rampant that Jennifer Cormier was working outside the fitness modeling industry under the alias of Jewel Dopplepop, the lead singer of the children’s pop/rock trio, The Boppin’ Dopplepops.
[Like here is how to read the rest.]
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So I am very close to getting my Nexus One SuperPhone, and in preparation for that – as well as recuperation from 
