Some of us, we have tattoos.

In the last episode of So Many Feebs (prior to the lovely Fresh Pressing – I greatly enjoyed being pressed and am feeling refreshingly flat now; I’m also feeling oddly liked, which only feeds the neediness, so I’d caution my new readers to be careful with that because I can be pretty poorly adjusted on my best day) –

Ah, whoops, let me reel that back in. Don’t worry, new readers, I’m not needy or poorly adjusted. I’m not! Please don’t leave!

Okay, that got weird. I’ll try it again.

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Fixin’ to die.

Heading to Black 13 this weekend to finish a tattoo that was started in April (yes, another one. I know. I’m done after this, I sort of promise except I have my fingers crossed so don’t hold me to it).

Black 13 is located in Nashville, Tennessee, a/k/a “Music City.” Musician that I am, I booked a hotel near Music Row, the center of the country music industry. I’m bringing my guitar, and I’m going to set up on the sidewalk and perform a song I’ve written specifically for the city of Nashville and the state of Tennessee.

It’s called “Fuck Your Truck.”

What could possibly go wrong?

Some puns have a certain appeal

Here’s a sentence one wouldn’t normally expect to encounter pretty much ever:

The otter is peeling.

And now you’ve encountered it. Glad I could help.

Anyway, this is a normal part of the tattoo healing process, but now there are flakes of otter all over the place. It’s like New Year’s Eve with confetti everywhere, except the confetti is made of human flesh.

Yum.

Sometimes I post for the sake of posting.

You really otter take care of that.

Get it? “Otter take care of that,” “ought to take care…” Ha ha! Hey, whaddaya expect for free? Although to be honest, I doubt paying me would make it any better. Also, is it possible to digress if you haven’t actually started yet?

This is my left arm. Yes, it’s tattooed, and yes, it’s wrapped like a ham.
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I have to keep it like this for three days, which means through Memorial Day weekend and my first day back at work on Tuesday.

Of course I’ve been asked about it. “Why is there plastic wrap around your arm?”

“Keeping it fresh.”

Huh?

“So I can make sandwiches during the week.”

Wha…?

“Well, it would be a waste to throw out all this meat.”

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