Just like smoking, but less likely to kill you, this long-time sailor tradition gives a seemingly everyday joe a hint of James Dean-esque cool. Like being able to wear sunglasses at night and not look lame, or sit in dimly lit bar rooms and seem to belong.
I realize that tattoos aren't exactly a rarity anymore, once again a long-standing taboo has become something that pop stars seem odd without. But nevertheless, tattoos are still bad ass.
Why you ask? Well, aside from (hopefully) looking cool, usually there's an interesting story behind them. I've taken the liberty of dividing the large group of individuals who have used their body as a canvas into three easily distinguishable groups.
Group 1: The Literal Bad Asses
These people are cooler then you because they keep tattooing to it's roots. Easily recognized by large sleeve pieces, dedicated rockabilly fashions, ownership of motorcycles, seafaring capabilities and being a tattoo artist or having dated one. Most of us have absolutely no hope of ever being this cool, we're just not dedicated or interesting enough.
Group 2: The Mainstreamers
The largest group, made up of everybody that has a tattoo or two that they like but don't elevate it to a near way of life. The types and quality of tattoos range from glorious pin-ups to adored tweety birds, but whatever it is most people had a good enough reason to get it. Generally these people are more excited when they get naked and have a story to tell, but if this was the 50s none of them would have any tattoos at all.
Group 3: The Drunken Mistake Makers
Everybody knows one, that guy with a Canadian flag on his shoulder or that chick with a flower hovering over her ass crack. These people are my favorite because their stories are hilarious. Why wouldn't you want to hear about a permanent mistake someone made for less then great reasons. Examples of such reasons include: "It seemed like a good idea at the time", "I thought it would get me laid" and "I was a stupid 18 year old".
Trust me people, one of the best things in the entire world is discovering some hideous ink blot on that naked person in front of you. It's like being thirteen again and reading your first trashy, bad synonym ridden romance novel. Pure gold.
As for the age old reminder, "think of what it'll look like when you're sixty" - I can only hope it eventually looks like a contorted birth mark that upon stretching has the capability of scaring the shit out of all the neighbourhood children. I will have fun with my body now, and I will have fun with my body later: tattoos give me the chance to do both these things.
'DILF of the Week'
I honor of todays topic, I give you: Ami James, the "boss" of that shop on Miami Ink. So he's bald, muscular, covered in tattoos and orignally from Israel - I'd tap that.
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