Monday, April 12, 2010

On getting a second tattoo

After swearing off tattoos upon getting my first one, I conviniently forgot about the pain and went and got a second one. Some people never learn.

However, in retrospect, the second one on my outer thigh did not hurt as much as the first one did, which is on my shoulder blade.

I even had some colouring done! The tattooist, Fun, put in some white to make my tattoo, a dragonfly, more lifelike I suppose. But anyhow, it's gorgeous and I love it.

Plus, it's cheap. Stretch your fingers from thumb to pinkie. My tattoo is relatively that long. All for RM200+. It felt less stressful and less painful because I had a friend there to chit chat with me and basically distract me from the pain.

I received some comments about getting a second tattoo. Someone asked, what if I'm 50 and decide that I don't like it anymore? My answer to that was it symbolizes something to me. It's not just some random tribal design. Penny the Phoenix means perseverance. She's also my good luck charm. And yes, other people might have the same design, but it's just like owning a cocker spaniel. There are thousands upon thousands of other cocker spaniels out there, but your own merry cocker is special, innit? Draco the Dragonfly (bear with me, I know they're corny names) means freedom, you know, life is short. It goes deeper than that but I won't go into it.

Someone else said that the thigh area is not lady-like. Whatever.

Other friends and my mom herself said that getting it on the thigh means that I can't show it off to the world. I'm not getting it to show, unless I happen to go swimming. At least I can see this one. I have to crane my neck just to see Penny, and even then, I can only see the tips of her right wing.

So maybe my next one, I'll get it to show. If I do get another one. Bad thing is, the dragonfly didn't really hurt and it sure as hell did not put me off getting another tat!

Friday, April 9, 2010

It's one of life's little idiosyncrasies. When you're too early to get to some place, all the lights are green and the traffic is a purring kitten. You try to drive as slow as you can and yet you're half an hour early.

But when you're late, you forget something important and have to go back to get it. Then every damn traffic light you face turns red. Not only that, but the drivers all seem like they're driving on a Sunday morning. Jams occur for no damn reason, and by the time you arrive, you've missed the train.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

On doors

Don't slam unless you're pissed.

Some doors don't stay closed, no matter how badly you want them to. They're supposed to be shut because they lead nowhere, and them being adamant about being ajar, good things tend to slip through, like cool air from the air conditioning or a bit of your heart. These doors, keys don't work. So after numerous attempts of trying to keep them shut (from putting up obstacles to pretending that the damn door don't exist), you give up and end up walking in and out of that door, eventually cultivating a habit out of it. And each time you pass through that door, a big ass splinter impales you on your cheek. You just hope that one day, that door will lead to somewhere and you don't have to unsuccessfully try to shut it anymore. Hope kills. Watch that cheek.

Some doors you close them and you forget what it was like being inside that room. You forget about the fuzziness and wonders of it. And it slips to the back of your head. Some days you are reminded of it, but just as soon forget. Some doors are not worth remembering.

Some doors remain open for some time. Like a trapdoor spider, it hopes to lure you in and steal a bit of you. Stay away from this open door, it will eventually, as is normal, give up on you.

Some doors remain open all our lives, till the hinges rust and the wood rots. It will never be closed to you. Every time you are sad or feel pathetic, pass through this door and everything will seem fine again. And although you can't stay forever, it will always be accesible to you.

And some doors have been locked to you. They say this door will never open. In which case, buy a chainsaw. After all, humans are curious beings, neh?

Monday, April 5, 2010

I was once told a story about a boy I knew who sniffed his mother's panties when he was a young boy. Years later, and I still remember this story. I doubt that I'll ever forget it.

Recently I've been seeing his pictures all over Facebook, and although he's grown up not too bad looking, lovely long hair and all, Christ, this guy sniffed his mom's undies. How fucking gross is that?

You know, I don't want to know if he sniffed them clean or used. It's waaaay too deplorable to imagine.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

I was curious if Penang had any cute guys left. Below was the result.