Do not get me wrong, I do not hate tattoos. In no way is that the case. No. I simply hate the people who get tattoos. When writing this I was asked by a good friend, if I hated their family stating that over half of them did in fact have tattoos - I replied - "Strictly speaking, yes."
It seems that by some act of god above that those who wish to get tattoos come from a small, what I would say mentally impeded demographic. They seem to have a desire to paint their flesh with images and or words to which have no intrinsic meaning or value whatsoever.
Walking around Sydney, NSW you tend to notice things, things that are not like that of the rest of the outside world, scary things. The other day I took to notice a large person with a 'shaved sides, shaved top, pony tail' style haircut- at first I thought that it was one of those transgender or cross gendered people that I love reading about so much. But no he was a man- he was wearing a low cut singlet, even though it was one of the coldest recorded days in July history (and my theory is that instead of brains he has installed some sort of heating system, thus too much hair on top may cause devastating over heating, this is just my theory anyway), and as a result of the low cutness of his clothing it revealed a tattooed set of rosary beads around his neck and a large black cross on his neck. I'm not sure if he realised you can actually purchase both of those items non attached to your body, but on account of his hair and body size I chose to keep this information to myself.
I continued to walk around every so often dying a little more inside as I saw another cross or other religious paraphernalia permanently inked into ones skin. I then crossed, Peterson. You may be thinking, wow how does he know his name, is he friends with him? Well no, luckily, not only for me but for the whole of the human race he had cleverly had the idea of tattooing his name to his forearm and although at first a little hard to read I got it. From then on my eyes were widened and my hate continued to manifest into this blog.
It does not take an idiot to notice the level of Southern Cross tattoos on people at beaches however it takes an idiot to get one. The Southern Cross is not something unique to Australia (or 'strayla to those who have them) no it can be seen in all of the Southern Hemisphere.
So why then does this man not have one, after all he can see it too.
Maybe because he is not a moron.
As stated I have nothing against tattoos I have issue with those who get them for example these, kind hearted, children of god.
People for some odd reason have elected to also use their body as a parchment for the scripture of their lives. I know a guy who had the well thought out idea of getting one such slogan tattooed on his being. I will not list what it says in english because he is bigger than me and I have a deep down suspicion that he is gay for me, and as I would rather steer clear of that - here it is, with slightly altered language -
The person who has gotten this tattoo, Bra Boys Style around his muscular neck, as I have witnessed chooses to resolve issues with violence as opposed to talking, call him gay he will fight you, say hello.. you fag, he will fight you, look at him the wrong way and he will fight you.
Get to know him too well. He will fight you.
Now I do not mean this is only for him. Even though he will never read this, if he does I have nothing against you - I hate everyone who gets inked up like that.
In the ye olde' days of our forefathers, things were easier, simpler - milk delivered to your door, bread just the same and if you needed to remember something it was a simple act of tying a string around your finger.
Today however, the fast paced 21st century people do not have time to remember what that string was there for, so luckily incase they ever forget something important, it's good to know you can have it tattooed onto your skin.
Just as Peterson so brilliantly did, you can have your name tattooed, just incase you're out getting a loan, signing some paper and you have a mental blank. "What is my name?" Peterson so daftly inquires to himself, only to laugh as he views his forearm in reflection of a near by glass door, "Nosretep, ah yes that's right !" I am sure that he is also one of those people who have gotten their family tattooed on himself as well, but at the same time I truly hope that he has not reproduced for the sake of humanity.
It can also work for the case when someone forgets what nationality they are. As people with tattoos often do. However people that get tattoos are often not intelligent enough to remember where it is exactly they come from, getting confused, this then explains the high level of white males with a Maori tattoo so proudly wrapped around their slim, pasty biceps - but I guess it's not their fault really, at least they tried.
I do not hate tattoos. I hate people that get tattoos, because really, they are nothing but sheep. Any one reading this and going 'but hey I have a tattoo!', firstly, good work on getting this far people with tattoos usually struggle with the concepts of reading and writing however I wish to tell you plain and simply, your tattoos mean nothing, I do really hope that someone reading this with a tattoo thinks 'hey actually now I regret getting that tattoo, darn', I hope this is the case because you now realised that you are permanently inked in as an idiot.