h1

mein kampf with stupidity

July 10, 2011

“My Struggle” began in the summer of my sixteenth year as I accompanied three childhood friends on a drive north into New Hampshire, the nearest state legally performing tattoos.

My friends, whom were 18, were surprised when they were not asked to show their IDs before Shamrocks and Red Sox logos were applied to their shoulders.  I saw this as an opportunity, if I’d only known that tattoo parlors did not stringently follow the letter of the law I would have brought up enough money (this was pre-ATM) and I only had $45 in my pocket.

There were five tattoos designs on the wall in my price range, four of them were butterflies, the other has been been on my leg for the past twenty years.

In those twenty years not a single person has said “Hey, that’s pretty cool” which is fine, I no longer seek approval from others, in fact I frequently forget that I even have a tattoo, but from time to time I’ll catch a glimpse of my leg in a full length mirror and the only way I can describe the feeling ..imagine that you have to permanently wear a t-shirt, silk-screened with your high school yearbook photo, and it’s visible to others but not to you.

 

I did some online research looking for the best solution to my problem.  Apparently the question has already been asked and answered on Yahoo! Answers.

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