More Observations and Bad Tats
Hello gentle readers.
I need to give a big shout out to the Big Guy for being the first reader ever to post a comment to any of my blogs. You really need to live in Southern California to appreciate the full subtlety of the comment.
Moving on to more pressing items and observations.
I think this blog is a continuation of last night’s efforts at observations. You will recall that I was momentarily petrified by Blondie the 30ish woman who was wearing the too tight jeans that she had to pull up to cover her butt crack from last night.
As I reflect on what I have just written, I am called to ponder what happened to Blondie's thong or was she not wearing one yesterday. The Big Guy and I almost discussed this point earlier today but he quickly steered our conversation in a different direction.
I had a similar experience again tonight. I had to stop at the market on my way home because I had run out of something that I needed for my dinner tonight. I was wandering through the market aisles looking for my product when I came across this young, I think woman, who apparently believes big is really beautiful.
If nothing else, she made Blondie look hot, super hot, even if Blondie drives a dusty Honda mini-van.
It was just not right and normal I tell you.
Moby Jane, the woman in the market aisle, was wearing a belly shirt that could never ever have covered what needed to covered up. Her snow white skin suffered from the English tire disease, it dun-lopped over the top of her jeans that were tight, way too tight. The jeans looked like faded and worn blue sausage casings actually. Even Captain Ahab would have turned away in shock and panic.
It gets worse gentle readers. You may want to have any small children leave the room now.
Moby Jane had tats all over her back. They were bad tats on top of that. When she walked – waddled down the aisle, the tats looked like they came alive and were dancing against a snowy white background.
I just forgot about buying what I needed for dinner and left immediately. I drove to my favorite Italian deli and picked up a sandwich. The submarine sandwich was a much better solution than taking a chance I might run into Moby Jane again.
All of which brings me to my observation – question of the evening. It is evening in Los Angeles as I type this blog; actually it is 8:00 PM, Pacific Daylight Time.
Why do young women seem to wear more and more tats and most of these tats are really bad?
I can accept the usual girlie tat of a flower or happy face or heart that ends up on her ankle or similar location. What I have real trouble with is young women with tats all over their visible bodies.
Moby Jane was wearing snake tats and, like Indiana Jones, I don’t really care much for snakes. Or, put differently, I never met a dead snake that I didn’t like. They moved when she did. I thought the cobra one was about to leap off of her mound of flesh that once passed for a hip a long time ago.
Then, on Monday when the Big Guy and I pigged out on Tommy’s Mega-Combos, there was a young woman there with Asian looking, red and green snake tats all around on both arms from her shoulders down to her wrists. She was thoughtfully wearing a tank top so she could show off her arm art. This was not a pleasant sight I tell you gentle readers.
I shuddered at the thought of what she might have in the way of tats that were covered and I was extremely thankful that she was covered up.
Surprisingly enough, the guy this woman was with had no visible tats. All of this raises too, too many questions that I care to ponder in this lifetime. Like why?
I think I go need to sip some of my single malt Scotch whisky that I use as my daily drink. My doctor says this is an encouraged medical practice now. I think I will have a few more shots of Scotch tonight. They will help me sleep better tonight.
Be well and stay happy and watch out for tattooed women.
I need to give a big shout out to the Big Guy for being the first reader ever to post a comment to any of my blogs. You really need to live in Southern California to appreciate the full subtlety of the comment.
Moving on to more pressing items and observations.
I think this blog is a continuation of last night’s efforts at observations. You will recall that I was momentarily petrified by Blondie the 30ish woman who was wearing the too tight jeans that she had to pull up to cover her butt crack from last night.
As I reflect on what I have just written, I am called to ponder what happened to Blondie's thong or was she not wearing one yesterday. The Big Guy and I almost discussed this point earlier today but he quickly steered our conversation in a different direction.
I had a similar experience again tonight. I had to stop at the market on my way home because I had run out of something that I needed for my dinner tonight. I was wandering through the market aisles looking for my product when I came across this young, I think woman, who apparently believes big is really beautiful.
If nothing else, she made Blondie look hot, super hot, even if Blondie drives a dusty Honda mini-van.
It was just not right and normal I tell you.
Moby Jane, the woman in the market aisle, was wearing a belly shirt that could never ever have covered what needed to covered up. Her snow white skin suffered from the English tire disease, it dun-lopped over the top of her jeans that were tight, way too tight. The jeans looked like faded and worn blue sausage casings actually. Even Captain Ahab would have turned away in shock and panic.
It gets worse gentle readers. You may want to have any small children leave the room now.
Moby Jane had tats all over her back. They were bad tats on top of that. When she walked – waddled down the aisle, the tats looked like they came alive and were dancing against a snowy white background.
I just forgot about buying what I needed for dinner and left immediately. I drove to my favorite Italian deli and picked up a sandwich. The submarine sandwich was a much better solution than taking a chance I might run into Moby Jane again.
All of which brings me to my observation – question of the evening. It is evening in Los Angeles as I type this blog; actually it is 8:00 PM, Pacific Daylight Time.
Why do young women seem to wear more and more tats and most of these tats are really bad?
I can accept the usual girlie tat of a flower or happy face or heart that ends up on her ankle or similar location. What I have real trouble with is young women with tats all over their visible bodies.
Moby Jane was wearing snake tats and, like Indiana Jones, I don’t really care much for snakes. Or, put differently, I never met a dead snake that I didn’t like. They moved when she did. I thought the cobra one was about to leap off of her mound of flesh that once passed for a hip a long time ago.
Then, on Monday when the Big Guy and I pigged out on Tommy’s Mega-Combos, there was a young woman there with Asian looking, red and green snake tats all around on both arms from her shoulders down to her wrists. She was thoughtfully wearing a tank top so she could show off her arm art. This was not a pleasant sight I tell you gentle readers.
I shuddered at the thought of what she might have in the way of tats that were covered and I was extremely thankful that she was covered up.
Surprisingly enough, the guy this woman was with had no visible tats. All of this raises too, too many questions that I care to ponder in this lifetime. Like why?
I think I go need to sip some of my single malt Scotch whisky that I use as my daily drink. My doctor says this is an encouraged medical practice now. I think I will have a few more shots of Scotch tonight. They will help me sleep better tonight.
Be well and stay happy and watch out for tattooed women.
posted by Chuck Reinhardt at 8:17 PM
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