You want to know how bad I am? This is how bad I am.
No, not THAT. Sure, that, but I’m talking about tattoos. Filthy fucking minds, the lot of you.
Anyway, here’s how bad I am. I’m now in the worst part of the healing – you know what I’m saying, those of you with a lot of tattoos. The itching.
This part – I’m not kidding – is far worse than the pain. The itch-but-can’t-scratch of a healing tattoo. It’s maddening. Even worse when it’s under my boots.
But here’s the bad part; I can’t stop thinking about the one I’d getting next.
Arm? Back? Leg? Arm? Back? Leg? Arm? Back? Leg? Ad-in-fucking-nitum.
A couple days ago I was wondering why I do it – but I never mean that for more than a few minutes. Now?
Which shop to call, is the only choice.
My damned feet aren’t even healed yet. What am I thinkin?