I slept in yesterday til 11 and decided fuck it.
For all of you who commented on or asked about my tattoo here's some pictures. Color is being added June 3rd.
|Babe on a Warthog... Sorta describes your relationship with The Gogeous Blonde. - Robert Forsyth|
Yes, it's a bit of a tip of the cap to The Gorgeous Blonde. I've always wanted a pin-up and I wanted to find a way to express my admiration for my wife's courage and strength so I came up with a way to combine the efforts. So... sexified Air Force pin-up riding my favorite plane. Two badass images make one badass tattoo.
It was done by the brilliant Alayna Magnan over at Art & Soul Tattoo in LA.
Okay, onto my weird fucking dream. I died. Double pumped in the chest.
Here's how it starts... I was out on a gorgeous grassy field at night with hundreds (maybe thousands) of other people. We were there to watch tv in the sky (just stay with me). Technology had evolved to the point where we could project movies/tv directly onto the night sky literally filling the entirety of the sky with amazing imagery. It was cool. Except the only show formatted yet was some shitty tweener show featuring a boy band doing mostly 80s covers. The show ended with the band doing a cover of The Beautiful Ones by Prince. They actually did a pretty good job.
By the end of the show the novelty of the experience had worn off and I was ready to see the night sky again. Credits rolled and (this part was cool) the cast walked out seemingly from the screen (the sky) onto the field where we were watching. You had to be there.
Blah, blah, blah show is over, people vacate and it's just me on a grassy hill and the beauty of the Milky Way. I was much happier with this show than the shit I just watched.
As I lay there with a shit eating grin on my face some fuckace walks up to me with a revolver and pops me twice in the chest.
My life didn't pass before my eyes. There were no bright lights. I just thought well, I guess I'll find out what all the fuss is about.
Then I woke up. A little disoriented. Am I dead? Nope. Dexter needs to pee.
More coffee, please.