Beer, and Tattoos.

So I guess I haven’t written anything in a while. I suppose I could say its because Ive been doing other things but that would be a lie. I certainly have more than enough time to sit down and crank out a thousand words. I guess I could say that since I’m back in the states I just don’t have anything to bitch about any more, but any one that knows me would be able to see right through that one. The reason, I suppose, that I don’t write much now that I’m back is I’m just out of ideas. The first month I had this blog I was writing as often as I could because I couldn’t stop thinking of things to write about. However, now it seems that I couldn’t come up with ideas if my life depended on it. So Ive waited, for weeks. Waiting for an idea to strike me like a blow from Ike Turner. Well today was the day I woke up with a metaphorical black eye… Beer.

If youre reading this than Im sure youve had at least one beer, and Id be willing to bet more than one of you has drank more than enough beer at once to get fairly intoxicated. Thus, Im sure I dont have to tell you each time you get drunk, you behave differently. Not just differently from your sober self, but your saturday night drunken self may act different than your friday night drunken self. In one four day weekend I experienced the full range of emotions when it comes to drinking.

Thurday night-About 11 of us went out to a bar together and took up position in the middle of the floor. This was a good night, and a good place. The music was outstanding and the drinks were cheap. That night it seemed like I was in a sports movie montage, nothing could go wrong, and nothing did. We party rocked because it was indeed in the house that night. Everybody just had a good time.

Friday night- 180 degree turn around. I might never have felt so low in the last 7 months. I was at the stage of inebriation where I decided everyone in the bar wanted to hear about the woes of my life. I basically had a sign on my chest that said if your a female looking for a good time STAY AWAY. This is the drunk I hate the most becuase its just not fun for anybody, and without a doubt you always make your self sound like a jack ass to somebody.

Saturday night-Sober, received a thank you note from my liver.

The other thing Ive been thinking about is what kind of tattoo I’m going to get next. Ive decided its not a matter or if, but rather an issue of when and of what. I don’t know what it is, but I love tattoos, most of them I see are pretty cool, and even the ones I don’t like mean something to the people that mean them. Its gone from belonging solely to war vets, and biker gangs to something that is acceptable across the board. Of course there are groups that get more tattoos than others. Soldiers will always get more tattoos than Sunday School teachers, and the lower backs of 18 year old women asserting their sexual independence will always have more ink than the Sunday edition of the NY Times. The point remains though that more and more people are getting tattoos than ever before. As it becomes  less and less taboo to open up emotionally it also becomes less taboo to wear your feelings on your sleeve… literally. As of right now I have two tattoos one on my left arm, and one of my right. I’m planning on getting a tree on my right arm to go along with the snake holding an apple in his mouth. The piece started with a simple cross, then turned into a cross with a shield, I added the snake about a year and a half ago. It just kind of turned into a garden of Eden thing. Some people ask why I got it, and some of the people I explain it to still don’t get it, but I got it because I wanted it and it has meaning to me. That’s what  love about tattoos the most, people don’t have to understand what it means as long as it means something to the person that had it done.

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One Response to “Beer, and Tattoos.”

  1. Give it a month or so… maybe more… before the “routine” shit starts to bug you.

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