Five Tbsps. of Condensed Milk
Yes…yes, I know. This post is not up for public consumption in the
allotted time previously agreed to. What can I say….I’m a creature of bad habit
and some behavioural patterns are set in stone. If you are salaciously
wondering about how I’ve been so vehemently denied my most basic human right
due to obvious consequence, I’m afraid it’s rather disappointing.
Think what you want. I’m not going to question the status quo….or the inaction of a certain individual.
My post (now late), my ass (high as a kite) and his calculated silence. We each possess a unique cache of artillery, the important thing is to identify your not-so-secret weapon, use it, abuse it and hope to Jah that it remains as useful as the first time you discovered it. Having a bergina and being recognisably koot helps....A LOT and has garunteed my safe, smoky passage up until now. It's a deadly combo, and I'd say the two characteristics are interchangable...but they really aren't. Bergina always stands victorious.
My post (now late), my ass (high as a kite) and his calculated silence. We each possess a unique cache of artillery, the important thing is to identify your not-so-secret weapon, use it, abuse it and hope to Jah that it remains as useful as the first time you discovered it. Having a bergina and being recognisably koot helps....A LOT and has garunteed my safe, smoky passage up until now. It's a deadly combo, and I'd say the two characteristics are interchangable...but they really aren't. Bergina always stands victorious.
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C-harisma
U-niqueness
U-niqueness
N-erve…and
T-alent
Lipstick on a pig in other words, which brings me neatly to my next point. I suppose there are very few categories a twenty something girl can claim virginity in, mine would be tattoos. Rather late than never, I’ve always been keen on the idea of having myself inked. The only reason it took this long to get it done was figuring out what I wanted permanently etched on my skin. Besides the obvious cosmetic implications, getting a tattoo is quite an investment.
There’s
money. Good tattoos aren’t cheap, and cheap tattoos aren’t good.
There’s time.
Rounded up it took almost five hours to finish my piece.
And most importantly
finding a skilled artist in a good studio. This is so key. Plus I like their mission statement.
No Picking. No Scratching. No Bitching.
No Ego. No Bullshit. Just Passion.
When sitting braless in the middle of winter for five hours, the
setting is crucial. Nipple stand ruins lives (depending on your profession- it
might enhance lives), and so the heater and cellophane wrapped pillow was most
welcome. Bestie bumz in
tow, cupcakes, smoke breaks and hi-fucking-larious renditions of the CaptainPlanet theme song got me through, relatively unscathed. Going under the needle
is totally manageable, it’s not the most pleasant- but it’s totally worth it.
The worst thing is being plastic wrapped like a forlorn tuna sandwich for the
following two days…and the surgical tape….(oooohhhhh, the humanity)...the tape kills me and was without a
doubt the most painfull thing about this whole experience.
It’s true what they say, it’s addictive. And if you really are a
“come as you are” type of person, body art could count as one of the most
honest forms of self-expression. I was banned from even writing on my hand as a
kid. I grew up in a concentration camp. Really. A concentration camp on the Cape Flats. I remember asking my old man what he
thought about tattoos… eish, that was the furthest thing from a fairy-tale. My
dad’s brother came home from school one day with an off kilter heart tattooed
on his forearm done with a school compass and stained with battery acid. My
granddad conscientiously took a scissor to my uncle’s arm (who was thirteen at
the time), scraped that heart until it was no more and then, for some reason
spread a thick layer of condensed milk onto the open wound. Not sure how the condensed
milk was meant to help, but that horrific image has been imprinted in my brain
ever since. Bitter sweet indeed.
Is mutilating a child really neccessary to prove your disdain for
something? Really? Why can't people just be free to mutilate /modify/accentuate/ express what
ever they like,as they damn well please? Tatoos throughout the ages have
historically held contrasting significance. From the old
world, differentiating the high born from the slaves, to the old-skool world where only
sailors, prostitues and criminals were bestowed with colourful epidermis. I see walking canvases. Not delinquents.
Present day, tattoos are more mainstream and the only thing that poses as a limitation are your brainwaves. Some people are prophets of doom preaching gravity and old age. I'll probably look the same as any sixty year old, just colourful and did I mention badass. Since when is this the Moral Olympics? I must confess, I feel a slight obsession growing.
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