Tattoo Ideas

This past weekend, I spent it in Eastern Oregon with my Polish Beauty sidekick, Miss W. Prineville is a beautiful town but we decided to see the sights and grace the warm springs of Kah-Nee-Ta with our presence. The waters of Kah-Nee-Ta are thought to be healing waters if swam in. So, Miss W insisted that we take a little dip in the pool. The same pool she continued to throw me around in. Fully dressed. Neither of us had our swimsuits or any towels. Unfortunately, I soon discovered it’s near impossible to put skinny jeans on while soaked and have vowed to never attempt to do so again. I’m stealing a fucking towel next time.

While we were splashing around in the pool like two fully clothed weirdos, I spotted a younger boy with a cross tattooed…on his face. He was moderately attractive with his olive skin and silky dark locks but mostly, he reminded me of a former Indian lover of mine (who shall not be named at the moment). Naturally, I was curious about it. What inspires one to brand their face? Miss W insisted I follow through with my curiosity and question him about his ink. As I ventured closer to the lad, I noticed he was in fact older and had a difficult time focusing his eyes in one spot for an extended period of time. I couldn’t tell what was exactly going on with them. They were slightly cross-eyed yet cock-eyed. His eyes were also blood-shot. Probably due to all the chlorine, of course.

The cross tattoo was right below his left eye and was no bigger than your average quarter. I gathered up the courage and asked, “Hey, I really like your tat. Where did you get your ink done at?”

The man-boy looked at me for a second and then up at the sky and said, “I did it myself…in jail.” After he spat this reassuring news, he smiled all creepy-like and had a crazy look in his already crazy eyes.

I stood there, motionless, feeling rather frightened all of a sudden. “Oh, well, how did you manage to do that?” I spat out without thinking.

“I just did it with…things,” he responded as he began to poke at his tattoo.

“Oh. Cool. Well, it’s really pretty. Nice job.” I then swam the opposite direction and decided that I should stick with my no-questioning-strangers-policy for the rest of my life.