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Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Disapproving Bunny

I have two tattoos and the word I use most often to describe them is dinky. They're dinky little tattoos. If I didn't tell you I had them or if I wasn't wearing a tank top, you wouldn't even know I had them.

A red scorpion on my right shoulder and on my left, a green four leaf clover. The scorpion was a birthday present to myself when I turned 18, and well, I'm a Scorpio. The four leaf clover was my 19th birthday present to myself and I got that not only as a good luck charm but to celebrate the Irish heritage that I don't really have. It's a symbol of irony now, my shoulders a pictograph of an old blues song. "Born under a bad sign, I've been down ever since I could crawl. If I didn't have bad luck, I wouldn't have no luck at all."

I've often thought about getting more tattoos, nothing conspicuous though. And nothing stupid either. (Not like a scorpion and a four leaf clover is smart...)

One tat I've dreamed about is of a matador and a bull, a black velvet painting on my shoulderblades. The matador would be supernaturally slim, with exaggerated long legs and that graceful lean of the hips. His eyes would be comic book white, like Batman's, and scrunched into a look of determination. One hand would be holding a flowing cape, the other a sword.

Facing the matador would be a bull, not just any bull, but the Red Bull. Not the one that gives you wings, but the one that chases unicorns into the sea! Big and mean and on fire. The look on the bull's face says, "I'm going to rip you to pieces and stomp on your corpse."

And you have no idea who wins. There's just that frozen moment of confrontation, each side equally matched, the outcome a mere flip of the coin.

I never got that tat, and I'm not sure I ever will. Absent that, I could never really think of anything that I'd even want tattooed on me. A yin-yang maybe, but there's nothing special about that.

But now...now I have an idea. And it's all because of this.
(Vid, and ear worm, courtesy of Just A Cool Cat)
Imagine if you will, a stuffed rabbit, not an Easter bunny but just a stuffed rabbit, a Beatrix Potter stuffed rabbit but less specific. He sitting there, a sour look on his face. In one hand he's got a cigarette, in the other a can of beer. Empty beer cans lay all around him. He's got a T-shirt that says "Fuck it" or something. Cute, but rude.

Underneath this scene in a non-gothic standard tattoo font the words, "Disapproving Bunny."

Not only have I always had a thing for rabbits but disapproving is what I do. Ha.

2 comments:

justacoolcat said...

Dude. Sometimes I think you're as messed up as I.

James said...

Maybe even worse... Ha!