I have to go back to Skobieville [our local town] on Saturday.
I had to get new lenses fitted to the old spectacles. It was a second attempt as the first lot of lenses were guntered and fair play to the girl in the shop – she refused to fit them, and sent them back to the lens makers. Either that, or she fancied me [no surprise there] as she asked for my phone number the first time I was there and has been phoning me at intervals on the pretext of giving progress reports.
Skobieville is a town that has become dedicated to Skobies. You won’t find much there if you want to do a normal days shopping. I have noticed that over the years, the decent shops have all closed and now all you will find are pubs, betting shops and takeaways. There are about fifteen Chinese Takeaways per head of the population, and betting shops alternate with pubs all the way down the main street.
On Saturday, I noticed a new phenomenon – the tattoo parlour.
Our wonderful government are constantly harping on about the
Mary Harney Pig Flu Pandemic but I think they have missed the real threat. There is a pandemic of tattoo parlours in Skobieville. I don’t know where they all came from but they are everywhere. Just out of interest, I did a Google for tattoo parlours in Skobieville and came up with over 100,000 results, which shows it’s not just in my mind.
I could never understand tattoos. I can understand how someone might dye their hair or even shave it off to appear fashionable but hair dye grows out, and shaved heads just grow so the damage is temporary. Tattoos on the other hand are for life. I mean to say, wouldn’t I look a right Wally now if I had some tattoo etched across my back extolling the virtues of some long forgotten 60s rock group?
I have to be careful now as my daughter went and got herself tattooed. I suppose in years to come when she is hitting her sixties she can always get them removed?
This is the thing about tattoos though – they are permanent. It may only take a good drunken night and short while in a parlour to get one, but to remove it requires laser surgery. That is not only very expensive, but [I hope] a lot more painful than the original tattoo. Even then you are likely to be scarred for life. And if I had had “Big John” tattooed on my todger and then wanted it removed, I don’t think I’d want a laser gun being aimed Down There, if you get my drift?
Of course, Skobies get tattooed for no apparent reason at all, and that probably explains the pandemic. A tattoo is as mandatory to a Skobie as a mobile phone a can of lager and five illegitimate kids, to go with the ultra tight skirt and the plunging neckline. Other people however get tattoos because they are fashionable, because their friends have them of [God help us] because some pea brained “celebrity” has them. However, fashions change, friends change and with a bit of luck “celebrities” end up on the compost heap or a drug clinic, so what happens to the tattoo then?
Someone help me out here. Someone please explain why people permanently mutilate themselves?
Is it because they want to remember how to spell?