Huh what? Yeah, yeah I work here. No, I wasn't sleeping. It's fine. Soooo what, you're here to get a tattoo? Because I mean you look kinda young. Boss man keeps saying I can't tattoo kids anymore without their folks' permission or something like that. Yeah, last time that happened he got in a bit of hot water.
I mean don't get me wrong, I'll still do it. I work on commission. What are you interested in? Badly translated Chinese characters? A baby's face on top of
your face? A unicorn on your butt? I'm not here to pass judgement.
Ok that was a lie, I'd totally be judging you based on what you pick, but I just won't actually say anything about it. To your face anyway, I'll laugh with my coworkers about it later. God, some people get the weirdest things done here, you have no idea. One loser last week was determined to get a dragon all over his-
You know, maybe I shouldn't be talking about this.
So what do you want, anyway? If you're not here to get something pierced or engraved into your body, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. Don't get me wrong, I don't actually care, that's just what I'm supposed to do.
Ok, I'm not actually going to enforce that unless boss man shows up again. No clue where that guy is. Although if an actual paying customer comes in, you're going to have to stop talking to me and go find something better to do. Just go do... whatever it is young people do these days. Fight club? I'm out of touch with today's youth.
Ok look, if this is one of those things where you invade my personal space and ask me way too many questions about myself then show up in my room while I'm sleeping, I'm gonna get really mad. Just putting that out there. If you're just curious or whatever, though, I guess that's not
as bad. Still weird. Just for future reference, it's almost never a good idea to show up unannounced at someone's place of employment then ask them to talk about themselves at length. As it happens, it's
really weird.
But what kind of narcissist would I be if I turned down the opporunity to talk endlessly about myself?
A bad one, that's what.
So, what exactly is it you wanna know? I'll let you know right now, I'm not going into any kind of life story spiel that
some people seem to enjoy blathering on about. All you gotta know is I grew up in poverty, had a bad childhood, a bad adolescence, and my life didn't actually start turning around until I was almost 30. I did a lot of stuff I regret. But look at me now! Fat and covered in tattoos. Happy ending? I'll let you decide. I'm okay with it, personally.
I dunno, I'm not really an interesting guy. I stopped having adventures a long time ago; I'm more content to sit at home and mercilessly beat children at video games, or emotionally torment my flatmate, if he deserves it (he usually does).
God that guy is such a nard. You ever met
Kriz? I don't recommend it. He's a whiny wannabe animator who's all talk and no ambition. He's been swearing up and down that he's going to go to art school for like the past four
years, and wouldn't you know it: He's
still stuck working at French Connection. I mean, he keeps up with his half of the rent and utilities, but
good god is he ever an open target. Really, he makes his own problems without any help from me, but it's just
so hard to refrain. If ever there was someone who need a good sock to the gut, it's that loser.
Jaunx seems to like him though. He's my uh, other roommate. The good one. We're actually pretty close friends. Real name's Chauncey, no idea how he picked up the nickname. He's trying to pin it on the way I pronounce "Chaunce," but if you want to know a secret, we basically have the exact same accent. My voice is just a bit rougher, and his is more nasally and annoying. Good guy, though. No clue what he sees in Kriz, I'll never fully understand that.
I'd really kinda hoped that at this point in my life, I wouldn't have to live with roommates, but you know how bad housing costs are around here. It was fine just having Jaunx around for a few years, because like I said, we're pretty close and there's rarely bad blood between us. But then Kriz comes and he brings his stupid little fluffball pet that I just want to flush down the toilet. God, what
is that thing? It's not even a real animal, I'll give you that much.
Don't get me wrong, I dont' have a problem with animals. I've had dogs all my life, even one when I was little that my dad ended up-
No you know, that's a bad story to tell to strangers. Or anybody. ...Maybe a therapist. But uh, hmm. Yeah I guess I've been living here for a while. Moved in with Sav back when I first got my job at the parlour. He moved out after a couple of years, then Jaunx showed up after I figured out that paying rent myself is not that worth it. Oh right,
Savas is another friend of mine, I forgot to mention that. I have a surprising amount of friends, considering my
awful personality. He's a pretty sweet guy, and we were really close for a long time. He's more of a surrogate little brother to me these days, since we kinda come from similar backgrounds. Sav's actually doing pretty decently now, all things considered. We still try to get together for lunch every week or so.
You know, I really could go for lunch now. I ordered a pizza like an hour ago, but I haven't heard anything about it since. I keep telling myself I gotta start eating better, considering how
disgustingly fat I'm getting with age. I used to actually be in shape for quite a while. Though it probably helped that I was taking, ah... some things I shouldn't have been,
if you catch my drift. Quite
enthusiastically. For quite a long time. Probably wasn't a coincidence that after I cut back on that kind of behaviour, my figure goes down the toilet. I probably
could do something about it, but that would involve eating healthy and exercising, and life is just too short to do that, you know? At least mine is.
I've actually lasted a lot longer than most people expected, all things considered. I don't... really remember how old I am very well, it's easy to lose track. I'm a child of the 60s, that's all anybody needs to know. I think... '64? '65? Something like that. I really don't want to do the math, but feel free.
Don't just think that because I'm in my later years that I'm some backwards, technophobic luddite. Fat chance, I've been wasting hours on video games since before you were born. Back in the arcade days of beating up grammar school kids for quarters. Good times. I haven't lost my touch either. For video games, not beating up kids. I'm not into that anymore. But yeah, if there's a game that involves guns and shooting things from a first-person perspective? I'm there. Don't get me wrong, I'll appreciate a good survival horror too, among other things. You know how it goes.
NO I AM NOT SLEEPING. I
never sleep on the job.
Except when I do, but that doesn't count.
Today wouldn't be your best choice for getting a tattoo, I'll put it out there right now. I had a busy night, that's all I'm going to say about that. Boss man tells me not to come into work when I'm this useless, but hey. What's he gonna do? I've been working here for like a bleedin decade, he's not gonna fire me. Besides, I hate to lavish myself with praise (just kidding, I don't hate doing that at all), but I am a
really good tattoo artist. I've always been a bit of an amateur artist; no formal learnings (I dropped out of secondary school when I got kicked out of home and haven't been to school since), I'm self taught. I picked up tattooing when I was in prison though, and it's worked out for me pretty well.
WHAT? Don't give me that look. Yeah, I'm an ex-con.
A lot of people are. It was on a bogus offense, too, so don't get all holy on me. No, I didn't
learn from my mistakes, because the only mistake I made was getting caught. Complete garbage, they'll toss you away for
years just for owning something. It wasn't even for selling it! Although admittedly I
did do quite a lot of that. Just never got caught. There were so many better reasons I could've gotten arrested. Like for all that stuff I stole in my 20s. Back when I was unemployable, that was my only real means of getting money to pay for my assorted bad habits. I'm almost certain the statute of limitations has expired on all that, though, so don't even bother trying to turn me in. Trust me, if that worked, Kriz would have me put away years ago.
God I hate that guy. Such a rat-faced little bottom feeder. Wait, no, I think I already covered my feelings on that subject. Moving on.
I'm trying to learn to control my anger. Trying not to turn into my father, god forbid. It's getting a bit easier, since I seem to be mellowing with age. I'll put it out there right now, though: there's absolutely
nothing that could make me go to an anger management course. Nothing short of a court order. Friend of mine went for exactly that reason, claims it did nothing but make him angrier. Not that I'm surprised, it's kind of patronizing to be told to pet an invisible cat when all you really want to do is beat somebody's face in.
I know I sound angry but eh, I really only have a few rage triggers left. I'm trying not to hold grudges anymore, bad for my health. Or at least I assume, I haven't been to a doctor in years. Do you know the kind of tests those sickos want you to do? No
thanks. Same with dentists. I don't feel comfortable having somebody sticking sharp metal impliments that close to my brain. Last time I went was to get a bunch of replacement teeth after like half of mine fell out. That was, what, maybe 20 years ago? Haven't been back since. I admit, I have horrible teeth, but that's just something people are going to have to learn to accept. I think a lot of it is bad genetics, my teeth have been horrible as long as I can remember. My brother had the same problem, but he spent a huge chunk of his adolescence trying to fix it, but I'm just like, eh. Pass.
Oh right, I
do actually have a brother. His name's Lawrence, and he's a nervous wreck. Don't get me wrong, I love that guy, and we've always been close. It's just, he's pretty socially stunted. His childhood was as horrible as mine, and I pretty much raised him myself, and I was kind of a poor replacement for the loving parents that neither of us ever had. I took him with me when I got kicked out, but eventually he got taken away by the state once they realized we were both just squatting in abandoned houses. It was for the best, really, my life was on the verge of taking a huge down-turn when that happened anyway. He kinda stopped associating with me during that period (completely understandable), and we didn't start talking again until the 90s or so. He's actually done something with his life, despite completely lacking any redeeming social qualities. I think he'd benefit from seeing a professional, but he seems completely turned off by the idea.
Then again, I'm sure I could use to talk out some of my demons as well, but I preach better than I practice. I'll stick to repressing my emotional trauma for now, thank you.
Yikes let's take a turn from that whole "talking about my personal demons" thing. This isn't crybaby hugsalot power hour here. I don't want your
pity. I'm a grown man, I can deal with my own problems,
thanks. Hey, you know what's totally not creepy? Here's a ton of pictures of my ugly face.
Yikes! That's totally not weird or anything. You know what is unnervingly weird? People have drawn me. Like, a lot. I'm not joking, take a look at this.
Wow! That's almost flattering. I'm gonna start locking my doors at night.
Oh right, if you were looking hard enough at those pictures, you may have noticed the presence of a small child who looks almost like me, if you squint a little. I do, in fact, have a son. I don't really wanna say he was a mistake, because that implies regret. But he sure wasn't expected. Well, I've made the best of it, and I gotta say, he's a pretty awesome kid. His mother's horrible, though. She gave him this god awful name that she KNEW I hated. I just call him Sticky, because he's at the age where he seems to constantly be covered in some sort of sticky substance. I dunno, I think toddlers just naturally excrete it through their pores or something. Don't look at me, I've never taken biology, it might as well be factual, for all I know.
Anyway, I get the little twerp during weekends. I'd personally prefer split custody, because then I wouldn't have to pay child support, but what're you gonna do, right? No, I am not a deadbeat father. I told you how much I hated my own dad, right? Not gonna repeat the cycle. I'm gonna out-father that jerkhole, even if it means the death of me.
Which it won't, so everyone wins.
Also apparent to any sharp eyed little rats out there, you may have noticed there's a bit of an inconsistancy in those photos in regards to whether or not I have wings, right? Well I mean I used to, and I did for many years. Born with little vestigial wings that honestly had no use or purpose except to get all arthritic with age. Well long story short, I've recently had them removed. Honestly not sure why I waited this long to get that done, they really were little more than a pain. Good riddance, at that.
Oh right, back on the topic of small children who have a habit of cramming small objects down their throats for god knows what kind of reason, would you mind taking these? I've been keeping them in the back seat of my car so that Sticky can't get his hands on them, but they're just kinda taking up space. I don't even really know what they are, or why I have them. So uh, have at it.
You don't want them either? Wow, tough break.
Aaaand on that note, I'm officially on break. I would actually appreciate not talking to you anymore, so there's the door. It's right behind you.
You're... still here.
Uhh.. well if you REALLY want to come back later, then I guess I couldn't really stop you.
For real though, feel free to scram. In fact, I actively encourage going some place else.
since 7/24/11
look at all these losers who can't leave me alone
