Thursday, November 3, 2011


I was just about to blog about how strange it is for me to see young parents with all sorts of tattoos— sleeves, leg warmers, back peek-a-boos, shoulder straps,anklets, and whatever. In my day (which we all know is ancient and medieval times) the only tattoos were on men who had been to the service, got drunk one night and put "I LOVE Mom" or something simple like that—USMC or an anchor for the Navy.

Now the body has become a canvass on which elaborate works of art are forever sketched and inked. Generations will grow up seeing their parent's tattoos along with their mobiles and pop-up picture books. I like the sight of a delicate tattoo, but find the larger ones a bit hard to take—but who am I to judge. If the owner of the body likes it—mazel tov!

Recently, my wife told me the new Barbie has a tattoo. All I can say is I hope Ken likes it or her ass is grass! Perhaps that is precisely where the tattoo is placed. Ya just never know.

Bye For Now,


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