Okay, truth time... I didn't tell my step-dad Dave, OR my little sister Laura that I was going to get my tattoo. They had BOTH discouraged me so, SO strongly in the past that I really didn't feel like making them part of the experience. In fact, I even had my mom drop me off at the parlor so I could go through the experience myself. Which was, in truth, a FANTABULOUS idea, because if one of them would have looked at me with a single ounce of pity I would have LOST MY SHIT!!! And ya'll know HOW MUCH I HATE loosing my shit!!! ;)
Okay, but the above paragraph comes with a "But". A big, ghetto-booty, Sir Mix-A-Lot style "Big Butt". ;) My sister read my blog. Whoops. Yeah, okay, my family is comprised of some clever fucking people. So much so that it is SO IRRITATING!! She called before my mom and I went in to Value Village to look for "job interview shoes". She kept asking what I did that day, and I kept telling her (truthful) things, and she kept saying God-Damned "...and then?!?" I called her on her "Dude, Where's My Car" style of interrogation, and then she called ME on my blogging activity for the day. Which, okay, yeah, included a SHIT ton of information about me finally getting a tattoo. Well, again, Shit.
;)
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