For starters, there's this guy:
And here are a few more permanent misspellings:
A Beautiful Mess might've been easier to spell.
Another misspelled tattoo. How the hell did this guy not notice this? It's obviously a mirror shot; is he so self-absorbed that he didn't bother learning how to spell? :
And finally, the thing that was mentioned in Rich's post, the face tattoo:
This is extraordinary. I mean, you can't really do a cover-up on a face tattoo like this. Cover-ups usually involve the tattoo artist finding a creative way to turn one's homemade tattoo of Popeye the Sailor Man gulping down a can of spinach into something like a mandala. But here, where would a tattooist go from here? He/she couldn't make this look like a tribal design or a kanji script. You'd need laser-removal surgery, and that would probably really fuck your face up. Probably a whole lot of scar tissue, probably some sort of cobble-stone effect. So there's that.
The face tattoo always reminds me of a time that a friend and I went to a show at the now-defunct Portland club Blackbird. It was a packed show, I believe the show was either Michael Gira (solo) or Angels of Light, and my friend and I were sitting at a table near the entrance. And at some point, in comes a guy with a thick-banded tribal tattoo design all over his face (by the way, tattooing one's face was a relatively new thing at this point. You didn't see many people with the full facial). It's noticeable of course, so we stared for a second. Later on, in comes a girl with a completely separate entourage, with the same fucking face tattoo, basically. My friend quipped: "That's a great way to avoid that pesky job-market." And what I thought was funny was that they both probably assumed that they were going to be the boldest in the crowd that night. The bravest soul willing to permanently alter his face for the sake of art, or rebellion. From what I observed, they didn't know each other, and they walked by each other a fair amount since it was a small club. I wonder what they were thinking at that point: "Yeah, whatever,...I got this shit first," or "Whoever did your tattoo fucked it up, it looks fucking stupid,...asshole."
This sort of reminds me of when I had my tongue pierced. I was 15, and felt pretty damn proud about it since I was under-aged and had to go to this meth'd-out biker tattooist for the piercing. Dangerous stuff I tell ya, dangerous stuff. It was fun at the time because there were only 2 other people in my town that had them, and so we were the crazy ones -- the exreme ones. And I had it for a couple of years, but I had multiple problems because of it, mainly because I reject oral piercings. For some reason, they just don't work for me.
By the time I started working at the head shop, I had taken my piercing out. And this is when I started seeing numerous customers coming in with tongue piercings, complete with speech impediments. I think the clincher was when I saw a couple come into the shop and flash their tongues out at me, before they even said hello, to show their piercings off. Aside from that action being strange, I was really disgusted by the idea of couples piercings. I have no idea if they really got them at the same time, but by their synchronized tongue-wagging declaration, I wonder. His and Hers matching tongue piercings, I thought to myself.
It truly is an endless battle trying to one-up each other in the realm of shock. The area of shock? The arena of shock? Shocksville? You have to be a trend-watcher, essentially. And the reductionist approach to staying ahead of the pack can really start to make people look goofy and insecure: bravo, you've now created an outfit made out of scrap metal, or you have spikes implanted in your head, or worse yet, you've undergone reconstructive surgery so that you can have the same physical jaw structure as a lizard. I feel it's a good thing that I got a lot of shit done and out of the way when I was young. Doubtful that I would've wanted to look like a lizard-human, but nevertheless.
Well, that's it for now.