Not to offend, but I'm quite aware that I have a very queer tattoo.
Queer? That offended you?
Now realize, I got said tattoo at the age of 17. With mother in tow. In a red state. Ah. Are the pieces coming together now? I decided I needed a tattoo and I didn't know what to get so I got what really just summed me up on skin. I mean it really just encapsulated me and I was sure I'd never ever change and would never feel the need to mutilate the patch of skin that held said tattoo in order to remove it from sad, pathetic life.
I now tell people that the tattoo is ironic and I'm pretty sure everyone believes me.
Here's my tattoo:
NO. JK! JK!
Here it is for reals:
That's me in a hat. Oh my god it's killing me.
Sorry guys, here's the real tattoo:
Pretty gay, right?
I'd consider getting it removed but saw a show on tattoo removal and it takes up all your money and time and only ends up looking like this:
I hate roses, too.
So I've decided against it and will instead spend the rest of eternity in pants, yearning to sing "Papa" but knowing I must never, never ever ever, ever. EVER. again let that geeky thespian out of the closet. God forbid I end up with this:
(Can anyone tell me what part of our 2,000 parts that is??)