How to Choose a Tattoo aka Alvin, Nell Carter, and the Rosieberlowjob
So, you want to get a tattoo. The scar above your left eye from the time your older brother threw you down the basement stairs because you were spying on him rounding second with his girlfriend when your parents were out at a Captain and Tennille concert must not suffice and the cicatrix inherited on your posterior from the Nair mishap just won’t cut it either. Well, since you have obviously thought this out just as well as your pick-up lines you used on that good-looking girl you went home with last St. Patrick’s day that mysteriously had a larger Adam’s apple than you remembered along with some quaint five-o’clock shadow; let’s do it to it.
Where to go
We won’t even get into what you are going to get and where it will be showcased (not yet), but first we have to decide on the artist and his locale of service. It is suggested to find a place that is cheap and convenient. You know that guy that your sister used to date before she caught him stealing out of her purse while getting her best friend naked in the downstairs closet? He was a nice guy. What was his name? Alvin, that’s it. He could probably do it.
Remember that seedy looking place you used to pass while going into the city to get served underage so you and your buddies could take advantage of those under-underage girls? Didn’t they offer a free 40 oz. with every tattoo? I think that would be a swanky establishment to get inked up in.
The point is that you have to forget about finding someplace that is “sterile” and “legitimate.” You are getting a tattoo, don’t be such a pillow-biter. This is the time to forget about those things that Grandma was telling you over sugar cookies that tasted so good except you still had that bad, guilty feeling about Uncle Danny touching you in your no-no place again while sitting on the couch watching reruns of ‘Gimme A Break.’ (No wonder your first times playing with yourself were mutually inclusive with mental images of Nell Carter).
Screw it, just go in and ask Alvin if he could “hook you up” after the cipher of smack addicts are done with his needles. Maybe he could cut you a deal if you tip him off about the video you uploaded to YouPorn featuring your sister, her new boyfriend Theodore (why the hell does she date guys with Chipmunk names?), and the dog.
What to get
This is a mucho important process of the whole enchilada. You have to put some thought into this. If you can’t immediately think of anything (why should you have), then grab a bottle of Scotchgard, spray a generous amount on a sock (preferably dirty to enhance effect), and inhale deeply several times. While you are temporarily blind you most likely will get a flash of some sort of esoteric image from the gods.
Concentrate really hard on what it looks like (go ahead, take some more inhales). It looks like a silhouette of Rosie O’Donnell going down on Milton Berle (the old Milton Berle of course- he was 78 years old when he was born) doesn’t it? It’s so funny how everyone comes to the same conclusion. Let’s call this image a ‘rosieberlowjob.’ Not only are you a bad ass for getting a tattoo, but you are a sagacious bastard for coming up with a neologism (you are on a roll brotha, next you will have to take on Sho Nuff to settle once and for all who is the “last dragon”).
Well, now we have to decide on where this bad boy of a rosieberlowjob is going to be affixed to that temple of a body of yours. The arms are so predictable and your ‘bacne’ (no, you can’t take credit for that term too) will interfere with the aesthetic nature in placing it on your back, so I say we go for front and center. You will have to keep yourself well groomed down there to further augment the effect. Don’t use the Nair (remember what happened to your posterior); it only seems to work well around the darkhole (and even then you have to remove with lukewarm water after seven and a half minutes). You will have to get your pubes waxed; it’s the only way.
Caring for your Rosieberlowjob (it has now made first-letter-capitalized status)
I told you that Alvin would do a good job. It must have been those extra shots of Absinthe he took before going to town on you. Well, that and the needle was already warmed up from the ‘track stars’ using it to run up their arms beforehand; but, that is neither here nor there, we need to take care of the Rosieberlowjob now. As previously stated you are going to have to get waxed.
Remember the best friend that Alvin got naked in the closet? Well, she works at the salon down the street from the dermatologist that you go to on the other side of town for your ‘bacne’ though there is one right down the road from your house that you don’t go to because Debbie works there as a volunteer and you don’t want her to know that you have bacne because you think you might have a chance with her and she is the only female that gives you boxer-protrusion besides Nell Carter (Uncle Danny doesn’t count despite the operation). How do I know all this? Because I am an omniscient narrator, so just shut the hell up and listen.
After your waxing, you might feel a bit of a burning sensation. You can assuage the pain by an ancient family recipe. It consists of 2 parts moisturizer, 4 parts peanut-butter, and 1 part shamelessness. Mix the moisturizer in a bowl with the peanut-butter and spread it along the burning area, in your case, where your pubes used to reside. Kindly ask Theodore and your sister if they could relieve the dog of his carnal duties for a little while, but ensure them you will soon return with him and the video camera. Find a private area where the dog will feel comfortable proceeding to lick off the moisturizer and peanut-butter (maybe try the downstairs closet; it has a history). Don’t worry about the dog; he is a pro at this and is just doing it until he can find a full-time modeling job.
Post Denouement
Well, that pretty much sums up this carousel of exuberance for now. Until my next highly scholastic installment in the series, I will bid you adieu. Congratulations on your meaningless, moronic, and inconsequential (but permanent mark) on your body. I would say if it is the worst thing that will ever happen to you, you will have a great life; but, I am omniscient and know about your date with Uncle Danny later and what he has in store for you (and your little dog too)!
Bookmark on Delicious | Digg This
