...because when I was a youngster I saw something like this.
In my uncle Jack's pub. The pub sat opposite the pit, on the crossroads, at one end of a one street town. It was a treat to sit with a lemonade and listen to the banter of the men who had spent a day far beneath the ground. It was there I saw my first tattoos. I like the faded, old blue scratchy ones. Paul has a faded blue bird on either hand. When we met it was like he was wearing white tie.
Whenever people express (idiotic) concern about 'how it will look when you are old' I always think of old blokes like the ones I watched in my uncle's pub and like this gent in the photo.
They will look just fine.
warm beer and misanthropy.
- Why I got tattooed...