Now that July is here and we are all displaying as much skin as possible (because it’s hot enough to make hell look like an ice skating rink), it’s time to consider my little summer fashion secret: If you can’t hide it, decorate it.
If you can’t hang an ornament on it or claim that it’s an official world record, then get it tattooed. (Warning: this is a decision that lasts a lifetime. Think of all the old people you know who still have Milli Vanilli tattoos from 1990.)
But here’s the important part: you gotta choose your tattoo artists carefully. I’ve gone ahead and compiled this list to help you find the perfect tattoo shop.
How to Know It’s Time to Find a Better Tattoo Artist
• The flash tattoos hanging on the shop wall look suspiciously like pages from a SpongeBob SquarePants coloring book.
• He doesn’t believe in coloring within the lines.
• You and she disagree about what the color blue looks like.
• You ask how he sterilizes the machines and he points at some kind of bucket.
• You ask if she can give you a lobster tattoo and she refuses because she’s allergic to shellfish.
• His most recent award: 2nd-grade spelling bee finalist.
• You request a tramp stamp and she asks if you want the 42-cent kind or the new Forever stamp.
• You request a PRIDE tattoo but end up with PRUDE emblazoned across your chest.
• The name of the shop is Tattooz & Tirez.
You may have heard that Turkey (the country) has changed its name. The reason, according to a press release, is that Turkish officials object to Google search results that always display the large bird whenever someone enters the word Turkey.
I can understand that. When my friend Dick googles his own name down at the library, a stern-looking woman comes over to his computer and whispers through clenched teeth, “That is not allowed in a public library, sir.”
Turkey’s new name is Türkiye. It is pronounced tur-key-yea. I’m serious.
Here’s the other official explanation given by Türkiye officials: “One of the definitions of turkey was something that fails badly, or a stupid or silly person.” Well see, in Texas that wouldn’t be a problem since we have other names for such people. Greg Abbott and Ted Cruz come immediately to mind.
Remember when Republican Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy got himself all worked up in a fit of righteousness and declared that Donald Trump was personally responsible for the January 6 attack on the Capitol? Then Donald Trump called McCarthy a poopie-face (or something like that), so now McCarthy has clarified who he actually thinks was responsible for ransacking the Capitol: “I think everyone in the country was responsible.”
Oh, really? Let me just remind Congressvarmint McCarthy that it wasn’t me. I wasn’t even there, and the only reason I even saw it was because Aunt Erleen called me up and hollered, “Honey, go turn on the teevee. Republicans are getting ass-nekkid and wearing feathers and fur and shit. And that’s the men—the same ones who complain about drag queens! The nerve!”
So that’s all I had to do with it, Congressvarmint Kevin. I am not responsible for any of that sedition stuff, beyond being stone-cold mortified about the whole thing.
Until next month, I’ve come up with a new trick for surviving this Texas summer heat. All ya do about it, Honey, is put a straw in your wine bottle so you can suck it up.
This article appears in the June 2022 edition of OutSmart magazine.