I’ve neglected this silly blog. Sorry about that. Now, in honor of Wordless Wednesday, and clearly, too many empty bottles lying face down in my recycle bin, here’s this week’s contribution.
I suspect ‘cat pee’ resides somewhere in the PUNGENT zone, yes?
“Like” if you’re an Oenophile.
Is this you?
Can you resonate with this?
Do you wish you were this?
Does this guitar make my fingers look fat?
I recently bought this acoustic guitar (pronounced geeh-tarr) and starting plucking the chords. I suck at strumming for the record.
And I haven’t picked it up in 2 weeks. In honor of (mostly) Wordless Wednesday, I vow to pluck this sucker when I get home, after my final Zibu tattoo is inked. And after my first martini is shaken…
>clink<
Sadly, this is the final post in my series about tattoos. But this one – it’s all about me. MEEEEE. Just as nature *ahem* the bold Biscuit, intended.
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So my fascination with tattoos began with my Dad. He was by no means Mr. Tattoo, but he had a couple that were just so HIM to me. He was a navy man, and quite ironic (like ME) it turns out. You see, he put “anchor’s aweigh” on his right shoulder and on the left – “Popeye” smoking his corn cob pipe. To me this was so totally “Popeye, the sailor man!” and pure navy-man awesomeness. Popeye was even winking. Today, I sorta feel like all of this was telling me something. A symbolic totem winking and mocking. So totally me. And if you follow my main blog, y’all see the irony in my masthead.
Now, I hadn’t really thought about getting my own tattoo until after I was in my twenties and then I couldn’t decide what to get. Not cuz I’m fickle, but because I needed it to really be all about me. And who the hell was that anyway? Besides a smart ass with a great shoe collection.
Then, 9/11 happened and like a flash of bright light, my light bulb lit up and I knew what I wanted and immediately went for it. Like 2 days later.
Wallflower? Fucking irony bitches!
Those that know me know what a dirty vodka girl I am, but my first love remains with vino. Which is good, because had I first been a vodka whore, this tattoo would be wheat stalks. So not sexy.
BTW, the tattoo artist’s name was Curly and he looked like one of the dudes in ZZ Top. Long scraggly beard, jeans and leather vest. Ab-fab perfect! He told me this tattoo would hurt and as me and my half naked body dangled off a typewriter’s swivel chair, I did break a sweat and maybe once asked him to stop. I love this tattoo for a variety of reasons – but the one that sticks in my mind is this: I stopped waffling between “Can I?” and “I Can!”
Now, my second tattoo is also very special to me – again, for a variety of reasons. It represents a very special time in my life. You see, back when I was a badass teenager, my besties were T-bomb and Suz. You’d find us either rex-style rollerskating, dancing at Tiffany’s, or having huge parties at my house. (Rock the fuck on! \m/_._\m/)
Then we all got married, they had kids and we all sorta fell outta touch. Later, Facebook reconnected us back together within days (thanks FB!)
And we quickly made plans for a girl’s weekend. Suz flew out here and we spent the weekend pretty much drunk the whole time. For those of you who know me, this is so not surprising. 😉
As part of the rekindling of our “girl-fueled and girl-powered badassness” we decided we MUST get a matching tattoo. I even wrote a big post about it on my first blog so if you want the whole story – come check this out. Three stars woven together. To us, it means “Like stars in the sky, you can’t always see your friends, but they are there and share your hopes and dreams.”
We all put the tattoo in the same place. With the same colors. Suz is green (just cuz), T-bomb is pink (princess), and I am purple (royal bitch). For those that know me, this is so not a surprise.
It took 2 hours for our hot-as-hell female tattoo artist to ink T-bomb. TWO HOURS. T-bomb was panting and sweating and shaking. Poor girl. Poor wimpy princess 😉 *she’s with me right now and pouting over this comment*
It took 30 minutes to do mine. It might have been quicker had I not skirmed with a fit of giggles during the inking. Yes – I’m ticklish. I like anything that makes me laugh. 😉
Our bond is there regardless of where we are in our lives or in the world. Every time we pull up our big girl panties, wearing our matching Tiffany’s Eternal Circle pendants, we will be: Strong. Confident. Courageous. Outrageous. And yes, Badass!
And like all the others before me, and after me, I am hooked and love the tattoos I have and where they are and why I did this. If I had my druthers, I would get another. And no, I don’t give a rat’s ass what someone thinks of this old broad sporting some ink on my body. And finally, yes, for those of you who know me, this is so not a surprise. After all, I’m crazy that way.
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Thanks for reading the tattoo series posts. I hope they’ve inspired, delighted, surprised, or even annoyed you. It’s been our collective pleasure to share our stories and art.
Come stalk my super awesome and super crazy adventures over on my main blog Boldly Mocking. And thanks for visiting Just Biscuit cuz … that is all…
One of my dearest, sassiest, crazaziest and longest friends…. is the 2nd to last of this particular series on my fascination – errrrr – obsession with tattoos. The last one will be mine. And I suppose partly hers too. You see, we share more than just the bond of youth and badassness. Sisterhood and antics. We share the same tattoo. Aaaaannnnddd serious fucking secrets, dreams, wishes and whatnot that will last a lifetime. Our bond is THAT strong.
However, today, this is my friggin-a hottie bombshell real-life best gal pal T’s story. Oh, why do I call her bombshell? Oh yes, please click that link. Doooo iiiiitttt!!!! We are talking hijinx, mayhem, and abso-frickin-lutely antics with me and the mighty T. Cuz, after all, she’s my best friend!! \m/ ROCK THE FUCK ON!!
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When T-bomb was about to hit a milestone age (yes, let the mind wander…), she decided she wanted to do something for her. Something colorful, bright and bold, like her!
She wanted hibiscus, because it reminds her of summer. It blooms when it’s hot. And that’s kinda sexy and definitely bold, like her!
She designed the art herself – a cascading pattern from her shoulder to her waist. Six flowers in all. And she found the place she wanted to “do her”. Yes, perverts, as in “ink her!” (Biscuit here: OMG, she’s sort of NOT a perv. Sort of.)
So back then, she was married, and the hubs rode her out there on the back of their Harley. She was badass.
And since she’s kinda a girlie girl, (Biscuit here: meaning, she’s a freaking wimp about needles. Yeah, I outed her), she decided to only get ONE flower done in this visit… (Biscuit here: I forgive her for reasons in next post!)
When the flower was done, she had the artist put her first initial under it, along with her husband’s and her two beautiful children.
Blonde. Freckles. Hotness. That's T.
And like most people who get inked, she knew it wouldn’t be long before she would want to continue the cascade of flowers.
This year, in special commemoration to her angel mother who passed away from a horrific struggle with brain cancer last year, she will place another flower in her chain because the love and importance she held in T’s life. She is her angel. And she will forever be on my girl’s shoulder.
And also, one more flower for T-bomb. Because, as her divorce is now final, and her life now begins afresh, she embarks on the most amazing journey. She’s not waiting for all the adventures to begin. She’s starting them. And that’s why she loves tattoos. They make her feel sexy and alive. And right now, she’s living.
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My BFF is precious, priceless and a princess. Deserves the tiara and the happily ever after. If you ever get lucky enough to meet her, you’ll understand.
Until then, enjoy glimpses of her suddenly single side when I share them. Ala bombshell bravado and push up bras. Cuz. That’s how we roll!
And in about tw0 short weeks, she and I will be taking our hot asses to my cabin for a much needed sassy girl’s only weekend. And whatnot! *wink*
Today’s tattoo pictorial comes from my twitter sister, I call her my #twister because we have so much in common. We both love stilettos and even have posted pics of the same shoes. God love this southern belle. But when she shared her story and tattoo pic, I fell just a smidge more in wubba with her. This is Cynthia’s story.
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I’d always loved tattoos on others but never got one myself due to the old caveat “Make sure you get something on you that you’re gonna want to see the rest of your life”. So when my mother passed away, I knew it was time and I wanted to memorialize and honor her in some way in an effort to humbly convey how very special her years had been.
I wanted something worthy of defining the woman, sister, mother, and grandmother she had been. And so I waited for that moment – that strike of lightning to fall from the sky to let me know this was the image.
As I approached my 35th birthday, it struck. You see, my mom had been in picture perfect health until she turned 35. Two weeks after her birthday she drove herself to the local urgent care center for what she thought was a broken rib. Within 24 hours, she was transferred to a high-risk cardiac unit, diagnosed with cardiomyopathy, and told that a transplant would be her only hope of living beyond the next 4 months.
So as I approached my 35th birthday, all the memories of what happened to her began to surface and it seemed like she was on my mind and in my heart even more than usual.
One afternoon, while absentmindedly googling who knows what, I stumbled upon tattoo images of cherry blossoms, which represent the fragile, fleeting nature of life, as well as a symbol of power and feminine beauty. I knew this would be my memorial tattoo.
I couldn’t get it inked fast enough – but knew the whole symbolism of the experience meant I would do this exactly on my 35th birthday. I went alone, partially because I was afraid I may cry (I’m such a wuss when it comes to pain) and also because this was a moment between my mom and I.
Just stunning
My artist, Eric, understood that I wanted it to be kind of sad but also kind of hot – I mean, come on, I’m still a girl and wanted it to be physically attractive too! He traced out our own abstract representation of the cherry blossom flowers with no definite outlines and a winding, bent tree. He also placed a little petal along the bottom and came up with the part that is my favorite aspect of the tattoo by far…the word FOREVER – in her handwriting, inked beneath the cherry blossom tree. Lifted from a note she had written to me for my high school graduation – a little part of her that will always be with me.
Five hours later, no tears but a lot of “Oh hell Eric, can we take a breather” requests and my artwork was complete – and it was simply perfect. Exactly as I had imagined it in my head and in my heart. My trial by fire (because that’s exactly what that damn needle felt like every time it went into my ribs) was finished and I had a memorial tattoo for my mom that was worthy to represent all those wonderful memories of such an amazing woman.
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Now you see why I love this girl. Her story gave me chills and her art is simply stunning. She is as whimsical as she is gorgeous, both in body and spirit. You can get to know her on twitter by requesting to follow: @cynthiap713
Today’s tattoo post showcases a terrific lady I met jeez about a year ago now. She is an awesome writer and story-teller. She agreed to share the story about how she broke the news about her tat to her mom. This is @thenicknick‘s story.
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So I went and got a matching tattoo with one of my best friends when I was 19. Needless to say, I don’t even speak to her anymore. 😉
But that’s not the story.
The story is really about my mom’s reaction when I told her six months later that I got a tattoo. We were just grabbing Dairy Queen and I knew she was going to pay, so I left my purse at home.
Well, she hadn’t said much about the tattoo, although I could tell she was thinking about it and possibly stewing. But, we get through the meal okay, and I go to get her a free sundae. Except she wanted nuts, and I didn’t have the quarter. Like a nine year old, I had to go get a quarter from my mother. That’s when she lost it.
MOM: WHAT? You can afford to get a tattoo on your ASS, but you can’t afford to get nuts on your mother’s sundae?
My sister shot soda out of her nose. My mother NEVER curses, and there she was shouting out ‘ass’ in public. I slid into the booth and looked at her very calmly.
ME: It’s not my ASS, it’s my hip. Do I need to get you a copy of Grey’s anatomy? I swear it’s my HIP.
MOM: It’s covered by your pants, isn’t it?
ME: Well, no wonder my thighs are so big, by that definition, they’re part of my ASS!
She reluctantly gave me the quarter and I reluctantly got her a sundae with nuts. Then it hit me. My mom is crazy, which explains the nuts.
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@TheNickNick is the first blogger I met. She added me to her blog roll and for that I will forever love this crazy southern hussy. Not to mention she’s a kickass writer and all around joy to be around. You can read more of her adventures on her blogs:
Suddenly Single Journey http://suddenlysinglejourney.com
What Dreamers Do http://whatdreamersdo.blogspot.com
And her new business… Rentable Me http://rentableme.com
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In this post, we continue to go over not just my fascination with tattoos, but clearly yours as well since you’re checking it out.
I asked my Facebook friends “Who has them? Care to share?” and got several wonderful stories from them. Enjoy!
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CHERIE: I received my one and only on my 40th birthday weekend in Lake Tahoe almost 7 years ago. This summer I plan on sprucing it up some.
Started as a dare and I went with it. Would I do it again? Not sure. My daughter is now 18 and quite frankly I just don’t want her to ruin her beautiful skin and then the fact that my wonderful mother reminds me often I will be her age and what the heck is it going to look like?
I like mine – just a simple flower on my right ankle. My friend also received one at the exact same time so that memory will be forever etched in my brain. So would I do it again? Hmmm, yes I suppose I would do it again!
RONDA: Five of us ladies went to Lake Tahoe and all got tattoos! I was close to 40 with my 1st one. 2 weeks ago I got my 2nd one.
The 1st is on my left ankle which says Angel for my daughter. My 2nd is on my right ankle for my grandson which is a big heart with Sweet Baby James written around it. His name is Dominic James and I call him my sweet baby James.
It’s funny cuz when I think of my age, I wonder what the hell am I doing?? But then I start thinking of what my next tattoo will be!
TAMARA: I have one that is ocean waves & floating roses, which are symbolic 
of wading waist deep in the Pacific Ocean, of my beloved home state of California. Living in Chicago so long, I was feeling alienated and thought I may never be able to return.
It wraps around my waist and laps up my back. It took over 40 hours to complete. It’s one of several that I have. Each are symbolic, but they were also a test my willingness to accept pain. I checked out from the pain every time, though. I’ve actually fallen asleep several times during the process.
I have a Buddhist Mantra to remind me of the pathway to enlightenment, a Hand of Life by Khalil Gibran to remind me that we are all interconnected, a Guardian Angel that watches over my back and a Sankofa to remind me to me mindful of my past as I move toward the future (I like to think it keeps me from making the same mistakes over and over again…)
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These lovely ladies are personal friends of mine, willing to share their stories about why they got their tattoos and what it means to them. I cannot thank them enough for sharing their art and stories. Chicks. Rock.
This is a multi-part post. Please see previous and future posts on this. Including, my own reasons for getting inked – along with my own pictures. Mwah darlings!
I continue my fascination with tattoos in this post. I think they are hot as hell and anyone who has one, gets that. In this post, I’m sharing another twitter pal’s story and art. Enjoy.
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WcBcPunk’s story
When I first started following this guy, I had no idea he had arm tattoos. Punk 
later posted a pic of his arm tattoo and I commented how cool it was. He and I chatted and shared our tattoo adventures. Turns out, this one on his right arm is a tribute to his grandfather. He designed this himself. He says the symmetry going down his arm represents order in his life. As he continues to add more art to the bottom of this arm, it will be filled in with a cloud haze with bats flying out of it in the blank area.
The left arm design he created is the opposite. He says this represents chaos – there is no rhyme or symmetry to it. Perhaps his own personal yin and yang between his arms – representing the two sides of him at odds with each other.
Punk told me the Samoan style body art represents the ultimate in warrior pride and mentality. But again, he 
created his own style for it. He feels that by designing his own art, it ensures that he’s the only one in the world who will have these designs.
I think they’re very cool. And he’s very cool. He’s also a wicked snowboarder I think. Maybe schralps. Just saying. You can follow WcBcPunk‘s unique brand of humor on twitter.
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If you missed the first tattoo story you can get it here. Stay tuned, I have a couple more stories to share… Including my own.
I’m fascinated with tattoos. Have been- well, for as long as I can remember. In other posts, I’ll share my own stories, art and reasons, and those of a couple other people (oh you know who you are!) who share the love of body art.
Today, I wanted my twitter pal @unaveragejen to share her story with you guys.
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I got my first tattoo at 18. I know, right? Rebellious. I’d been waiting years to get inked and now I was of age. This was also the right around the time my closest uncle was killed in a car accident.
He and I were only a few years apart and grew up together. I spent a number of months looking for something that would remind me of him. The only thing I could think of was how much I missed him and the heartbreak I felt for his two, very young, children left behind. I was only “allowed” to get the tattoo on my lower back. Yep, the tramp stamp.
Y’all should probably know my then boyfriend, turned husband, turned ex-husband was a controlling asshat. This was also to be my ONLY tattoo.
I heart my tramp stamp
Simple, tramp stampy. He’s been gone over 8 years now, but I still think of him every time I see it.
Many people with tattoos know that it is almost impossible to stop at just one.
I was with my ex-husband for 6 years. I met him when I was 16 years old. He was all I knew. I felt lost and afraid when we divorced. I didn’t think anything would ever be alright again.
Breathe deep. Believe. Start again.
I got my second tattoo two months after my divorce.
I decided that I still wanted my tattoos to be in an area that is easily able to cover up.
I went to my back again. My second tattoo is in the middle of my back, to the right side. It sits right where I wear my bra.
It reminds me that when everything feels crazy and insane I just have to believe that everything is going to be alright. Everything happens for a reason.
Now I have an amazing 2 year old daughter and I’m preparing myself for the opportunity of a lifetime. I was scared and ashamed back then about the state of my marriage, but now I’m so happy with where my life is and so happy I went through those hard times.
My third tattoo was also at a rather challenging time for me. I was living in a place I didn’t want to live and where I felt like I didn’t fit in. I thought I was stuck. Stuck because my family was there and I needed them to help me take care of my daughter. I was a single parent and terrified to step out and try something new, without a safety net. Even though I was miserable where I was, I thought I had to stay because I couldn’t do it by myself.
My best friend gave me my wake up call. He told me “you only live once and you 
have to love the life you are living.” If I’m happy and loving life, my daughter will be happy too.
I chose “live with passion” on my right foot. I decided last minute to add the flower. I got the tattoo the first time I was in Hawaii and the flower, a plumeria, was my favorite flower.
I’m still living in that place I feel so stuck, but I am moving 6,000 miles away in a few weeks. I am so excited about what the future holds and I know that, no matter what, I need to be happy with my life.
My fourth (I told you, addicting) tattoo was my most recent. I got this tattoo on my most recent visit to Hawaii. It is very simple in an area not as easy to hide. But this is the name of my daughter. And I might add more pizazz to it later. 😉
My angel on my shoulder
I LIKE tattoos, I always have. I LIKE that each of my tattoos tells about a part of my life. I also enjoy tattoos on other people. Seeing a man with ink gets me going.
I’ve been asked a number of times what I’m going to do when I’m 90 and wrinkly. First of all, no one needs to be looking at my wrinkly, 90 year old ass. If they do? That’s not my issue. Looking around, there are a lot of people these days that have one or more tattoos. Aren’t most of them going to get 90 and wrinkly too? The way I see it, geriatrics is going to be a lot more interesting when I’m 90.
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This is why I love meeting people on twitter. What a badass chick. You can read more of her amazing adventures and see her fabulous photography on her blog “Outside Looking In“.
Just Biscuit 