I consolidated the stories about Fred.


...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. flipaul@yahoo.com

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

When Getting A Tattoo, One Shouldn't Be Vague.

Dude, you are the worst tattoo studio ever! This is the worst tattoo ever! I can't believe you did this to me. How do you even stay open? I am going to kick your butt. I want my money back, and I want you to fix it. Oh man, can you fix it? Is there something you can do? Dude, you got to stinking do something, man!
     What the heck man?! I can't believe you tattooed this on my chest. What a pile of crap. Dude, I lifeguard in the summer at the Y. Dang, dude! My life is over. I'm gonna have to flippin kill myself, and then I'm gonna have to kill you.
     I said I wanted a tattoo that said I was a sexy beast. Something that was dangerous. Something that told the ladies that I was an animal. Like a bear, lion, wolf or even a killer whale, but sexy. Not a tattoo of all of them, along with those... those darn words. Ah dude, I'm never gonna get a date again. Why, dude? Why?