Monthly Archives: October 2013

E is for Eyeball. The Zipper Eyeball.

Every day in October I will be rocking an A To Z Blog Challenge about my terribly terrific tattoos. Every day a new letter. Today is October 5 so the letter of the day is E.

E is for Eyeball. The Zipper Eyeball.

I’ve got a bunch of band tattoos. But I never had a tattoo of an album that I’d never heard… until this one. I’ve always loved Hanoi Rocks. You simply HAVE TO love Hanoi Rocks if there’s even a single bone in your body that loves cock rock. And a lot of that love goes to their singular singer Michael Monroe. Without him there simply couldn’t have been a Vince Neil or Axl Rose. A whirlwind of a frontman in the the best sense, the guy is on the far side of 50 now and has the taught body of a teenager and the stamina of a man half his age. And the moves! It’s like the crazy antics of Mick Jagger, Steven Tyler and Iggy Pop all rolled into one – but unlike those three he doens’t look silly doing it in the present day. And the guy also plays the saxophone and harmonica. I’m willing to forgive him for that.

A few years ago I found out that my pal Ginger took a gig writing and playing in Michael’s band for an album and tour. There was little doubt that Michel Monroe would put out a great record, but that tiny lingering bit was blasted to smithereens with the knowledge that Ginger would be on board to lend some of his songwriting magic. Before any of the music was leaked to the public, they let everyone see the album cover:

michael-monroe-sensory-overdrive-album-cover

It struck me to my core immediately. Anyone who knows me know I have an affinity for nail polish and glitter. and there was just something mesmerizing about that EYEBALL. How it managed to be creepy and comforting at the same time. And the zipper. To me personally the zipper represented the “man” wanting you to shut your eyes to the injustices going on today, but those fingers had peeled the zipper apart and were holding the eye open all Clockwork Orange style. Almost immediately I headed to see my main girl Tasha Rubinow at Inborn Ink on Ludlow street and asked her to give it to me. And she gave it to me good!

Thankfully the album didn’t let me down. Once I got my hands on it I loved it upon first listen and it’s still in my regular rotation. Ive also gone on to promote a bunch of shows with Michael and gotten to know him a bit and he’s every bit as wonderfully nuts as I’d imagined.

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RELATED: Get Your Rocks Off Podcast #14 with Ginger Wildheart

Many thanks to the irrepressible spirit and lovely lens of Deneka Peniston for the tattoo pics!

D is for Dollywood.

Every day in October I will be rocking an A To Z Blog Challenge about my terribly terrific tattoos. Every day a new letter. Today is October 4 so the letter of the day is D.

D is for Dollywood.

Oh Dollywood. A few years back me and my buddy Ginger and some other friends were at the Rodeo Bar in NYC at 2am on a Sunday night, eating nachos, and drinking beer, as you do at the Rodeo Bar. When a Dolly Parton song came on the conversation quickly turned to how much we all loved her and then on to her theme park Dollywood. If you can’t embrace spontanaiety what’s the point of even being alive?

So of course that Thursday 6 of us were on a plane to Nashville for our pilgrimage to our theme park and music mecca. We hopped into a rented minivan and made our way to our rented house in the smoky mountains. On the way we stopped at a liquor store and picked up enough booze to kill a small army. Or to fuel our insane posse. We also hit a grocery store. And bought some food. As if… you find funny things though in rural Tennessee grocery stores. We bought some Pancake Sausages – On A Stick! It was pretty much the breakfast version of a Corn Dog.

This is why you're fat.

This is why you’re fat.

Dollywood is a helluva place. We had no idea what to expect but it blew us all away. We knew it would have some rides but who coulda guessed that there would be six or seven different world class coasters. But somehow they didn’t dominate the park. The place is massive but laid out in such a way that it feels like a series of quaint little villages. And every village had its own little music venue / chapel. And chapel can’t be overstated enough! You never feel more than a whisper away from God while you’re there. Family friendly is an understatement. Before we made the trip, Jessica found this on the FAQ part of the DollyWood website “Clothing with distracting words and/or pictures will not be permitted inside the park.” So I packed my Dolphin / Unicorn T-Shirt. That one never got us in any trouble. But a number of our photos from the Roller Coaster cams were flagged and deleted before we every got to see them. Something about “rude hand gestures. I guess the shocker still qualifies as shocking in Pigeon Forge!

This whole trip could be a book in it’s own right – or a series of blog posts. In fact part of it was alredy immortalized in my last A to Z blog in the post H is For Hot Tubs.

But I can’t NOT mention the Cowboy Church. We knew we wanted to hit up a church while we were in the bible belt. But we never imagined we would find a Cowboy Church. A local hipped us to it – and it was the best church ever. It took place on Sunday morning at a theater in Pigeon Forge. It was a live country and western band playing gospel themed songs and the preacher played lead guitar and sang. They played a handful of songs and then he did his sermon. But that’s when the fun really began. At the end of his sermon he said “This is when the service would usually end, but today we have a special surprise. We are going to have a wedding! Just give us a few minutes to get set up for that and we will be right back – and the curtained closed on the stage. When it re-opened not much had changed but there were three giant vases on a table. After the pomp of circumstance of the bride’s entrance they got down to the ceremony, which was unremarkable until they got to the vases. One vase was filled with red marbles and one was filled with blue. The preacher explained that the red marbles represented men, who are from Mars. And the blue marbles represented women who were from Venus. He then had the couple each pick up a vase and at the same time pour them into the third vase, so they mixed together, thus representing their union. We started drinking pretty early that morning, and continued to sip whiskery throughout the service, but I SWEAR ON THE GRAVE OF JACK DANIELS THAT THIS REALLY HAPPENED. The only right way to cap that trip of was to get a Dolly tattoo. Ginger got one too.

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Ginger with our stockpile.

Ginger with our stockpile.

Me and Rodney and the lucky couple!

Me and Rodney and the lucky couple!

Our whole crew with the Minister. I asked him where he got his amazing suit. He said "Down the street at the Suits and Boots Wearhouse." I went and bought the exact same one and have performed a wedding in it last summer!

Our whole crew with the Minister. I asked him where he got his amazing suit. He said “Down the street at the Suits and Boots Wearhouse.” I went and bought the exact same one and have performed a wedding in it last summer!

 

RELATED: Get Your Rocks Off Podcast #14 with Ginger Wildheart

Many thanks to the irrepressible spirit and lovely lens of Deneka Peniston for the tattoo pics!

C is for Cupcake Minister. An Evil Cupcake Minister Who just Murdered His Entire Congregation.

Every day in October I will be rocking an A To Z Blog Challenge about my terribly terrific tattoos. Every day a new letter. Today is October 3 so the letter of the day is C.

C is for Cupcake Minister. An Evil Cupcake Minister Who just Murdered His Entire Congregation.

Even though the cupcake minister is one of my favorite tattoos it has a pretty simple, yet convoluted, backstory. I was sitting on a plane that was about to take me away to Tucson, Arizona to visit The Magic Fun Store. Before we took off I posted to Facebook “Headed to my tattoo shop in Tucson, can’t decide what to get. Any ideas?” I got a lot of zany responses, naturally, but the one came through from my friend Kathy Teree just before I had to shut my phone down really resonated with me. She wrote, quite simply, “Get a cupcake!”

It was a long flight, which gave my mind plenty of time to wander. I had just seen a comedian named Michael Che make a joke about cupcakes being played out. He said “My neighborhood is becoming gentrified. You know what gentrification means? It’s when a buncha white people move to a fucked up neighborhood and open cupcake shops.” I knew I had to come up with a twist. Somehow my brain started wandering to ministers and I made the connection that they had a lot in common with cupcakes. A good minister has a sweet and sugary delivery, and makes you feel good about yourself after his sermon. But ultimately, because of his chosen path, he’s gonna let you down. He has to. Because the overwhelmingly majority of the time he’ll be telling you that your life is in the hands of an imaginary entity. Sort of like a cupcake. They usually look pretty in the glass case and and put a big smile on your face when you bite into the frosting. But soon you will crash. Cuz it’s made up of shit that’s ultimately no good for you. Refined sugar. Processed flour. Stuff that’s gonna eat your body away from the inside. It made perfect sense to me then, and makes perfect sense to me now.

Now I’m not saying every cupcake and every minster is full of shit. Babycakes Bakery in NYC makes a pretty sweet vegan cupcake that’s sweetened with agave. And my buddy Joel Osteen is a fascinating orator who I’d liken more to a motivational speaker than a traditional minister. But most of the time, both cupcakes and ministers are ultimately just a large sack of shit wrapped up in a pretty package.

When I finally arrived in Tucson and saw Bruce, the idea was fully formed and being an intelligent man with no trust of organized religion and a finely tuned bullshit sensor he of course loved it. I gave him a few points of reference – I wanted the face of the cupcake to recall the old Milk and Cheese comic book characters. They were a gin guzzling violent dairy duo. A Carton of Hate and a Wedge of Spite. And I wanted to gun to be an AR-15 assault rifle, because that’s what assholes typically use to kill loads of people in America. IT was Bruce’s great idea to add a little discarded Candy Heart by the minister’s feet that says “U Lied”

And just like that, the cupcake let people know he was NOT to be eaten.

And just like that, the cupcake let people know he was NOT to be eaten.

And the references...

And the references…

Many thanks to the irrepressible spirit and lovely lens of Deneka Peniston for the tattoo pics!

B is for the Bads. My first Gang.

Every day in October I will be rocking an A To Z Blog Challenge about my terribly terrific tattoos. Every day a new letter. Today is October 2 so the letter of the day is B.

B is for the Bads. My first gang tattoo.

So I own a tattoo parlor in Tucson, Arizona. Seriously. It’s called the Magic Fun Store. It’s operated by my good friend, business partner and amazing all around artist Bruce Gulick. How did I come to own a shop in Tucson, Arizona you might ask? Well one day I told Bruce “If you ever want to open your own shop, I’d be happy to back you financially.” He moved to Tuscon and after about 6 months called me up and asked if my offer was still valid. I did a little research and by “research” I meant I asked the one guy I knew who had once lived in Tucson if it was a good idea and he said “There’s a lot of tattoo shops there but none of them are very good.” That was solid enough for me. Bruce told me he had found an affordable spot on the main drag of 4th Avenue next to a popular coffee shop and only a couple of blocks from the University of Arizona. Bruce sent me a few pics of the place and then a few days later I got a lease in them mail and signed it and sent it back with a check. A couple of weeks after that I was in Tucson for the first time ever to help Bruce round up the rest of the supplies we needed and then we staged our grand opening party which was really just me getting a tattoo of a Cupcake Minister – but that story is for tomorrow’s blog.

The second time I went to visit my tip just happened to coincide with one of my all time favorite bands – and favorite people – the Bouncing Souls. They also happened to be the first band I ever got a tattoo of. They were on tour with Bad Religion and playing at the historic Rialto Theater in Downtown Tucson – conveniently located right across the street from the Congress Hotel – my home away from home in Tucson and also the place where The FBI finally captured John Dillinger. What luck!! I “snuck” into the venue during soundcheck and surprised the guys. Needless to say they were simply ecstatic to see me 😉

After sound check we were hanging around and shooting the shit and the topic somehow got around to the BADS. A new “Gang” the guys had started. Bryan and the Pete explained that when they are on tour they get 3 hotel room every night, and the inhabitants of the rooms are divided up into the Sleeps, the Pots and the Bads. It was pretty easy to figure out what the Sleeps and the Pots did but I had to ask about the Bads. Bryan said “The Bads like to stay up all night and do bad things. You know what I mean,” he added with a wink. “You’re a bad – you should get a Bads tattoo. You can be in the gang! But I have to give you the tattoo.” Bryan had just started tattooing at that point but I was sold. So we decamped to the Magic Fun Store and Bryan gave me the tattoo right there in my own shop. He even picked up a few tips from Bruce. Bryan has since gone on to become an elite level tattoo artist and his done his fair share of Bouncing Souls related artwork on people. But I party hard knowing that I’m in an elite gang of trouble makers. The Bads.

Who loves fun? The Bads!!!

Who loves fun? The Bads!!!

And here’s the greatest TV Commercial that has ever been made for Tattoo shop.

Many thanks to the irrepressible spirit and lovely lens of Deneka Peniston for the tattoo pics!

A is for Asshole… Of course.

Every day in October I will be rocking an A To Z Blog Challenge about my terribly terrific tattoos. Every day a new letter. Today is October 1 so the letter of the day is A.

A is for Asshole… naturally.

Two things that don’t go together are tattoos and the beach. The worst thing you can do to a tattoo is let it stew in the sun. So why are there so many tattoo shops at beaches? Probably because the 2nd worst partner in crime for a beach is beer. Sunshine and alcohol combined leads to bad decisions – the financial life raft of any tattoo shop!

A couple of years ago I was wintering in Santa Monica and strolling the Venice Beach boardwalk when I became fascinated by the deliciously derelict tattoo shops and thought to myself “What kind of asshole gets tattooed at one of these shops? Probably the same type of asshole who asks for the Chinese symbol for ‘strength’ and walks out with the Mandarin marking for ‘pussy'” And that right there was my eureka moment.

I had to do a little research to figure out how to figure out what the translation was for “Asshole.” I hit up my homie Kid Koala and he told me there isn’t an actual exact word for Asshole but offered up the symbol for “anus.” That wasn’t what I was going for so I turned to the genius of Google translate. They didn’t let me down. At least I don’t think so. I took the symbol they gave me and brought it into the sketchiest shop of the bunch. I didn’t want to tell the sole tat rat on duty that Tuesday morning what I was up to, so when he asked what the symbol meant i said “I’d rather not get into it – it’s very personal” with a somber look on my face. Crisis averted.

As often happens when I show up at a random shop wearing long sleeves and looking for a small tattoo I got a little bit of an attitude. Sort of an “Oh god this newbie guy wants a tiny little tattoo. How cute.” Once I take off my shirt though their attitude changes. Most of the time it’s my full back piece or the Dolphin / Unicorn that gets their attention.

Not this jabroni. The first thing he noticed when I showed him where I wanted it was my Insane Clown Posse Hatchetman tattoo. Immediately he said “Oh man, nice hatchetman. I tattooed one of the guys from that band a few months ago. I gave him his kids’ name. They wandered in here because they were shooting a video in a warehouse nearby” I was a little skeptical and asked which one of that terrible twosome it was. He said “One guy is a fat with blonde hair right? It wasn’t him it was the skinny one.” That would be Shaggy 2 Dope.

The tattoo was quick and easy, but afterwards I was still skeptical, so I called my girl Kodi who works for the Clowns and asked if they had shot a video in LA recently. She said yes and I asked where. She said “Some warehouse a couple blocks off the beach in Venice.” And just like that I had the answer to my original question of “What kind of an asshole gets tattooed at one of these shops!” Assholes like me and Shaggy 2 Dope.

What has two thumbs and gets a tattoo of Chinese lettering at a beachside tattoo shop? This asshole!

Many thanks to the irrepressible spirit and lovely lens of <a href=Deneka Peniston for the pics!