While I'm far from an advocate of morons and the subsequent moronism that they propagate and bring forth with, I'll say this much: They sure are good for a laugh or two when they get themselves an inadvisable tattoo whence in the middle of a good drunken stupor, that's for sure.
Today's tale of people who shouldn't be allowed to go out into public without a chaperone, we go to Sweden and learn of such follies via our favorite Swedish newspaper in English, The Local. It is The Local which informs us of the adventures of a one 27-year-old man from northern Sweden who is being identified simply as "Joel". "Joel" did that which is really difficult for many to recommend either once they've done it or before one does it. "Joel" (and I'm going to stop putting the quotes around Joel right here. We're all clear that it isn't the bloke's real name, correct? Good.) drank a full bottle of vodka while out for a night on the town with his friends. (I'm glad he wasn't drinking alone. People need companionship!) According to The Local, while the crew was on their way to grab a burger, "Joel waxed lyrical about a tattoo of a mustache on a companion's finger." Wait. A what now?
That's what I said! This particular tattoo, the mustachioed finger, is known as the "fingerstache". It is exactly what it sounds like it is. Behold!
Oh, good Lord. That's actually kind of funny. Hola, Senor Stache! Now, while I find the concept highly amusing, I don't know that an actual tattoo is necessary. Some folks feel that it is, however. Joel was one of them.
Now, while Joel was doing all of his poetic waxing about his yen for a mustachioed finger, he was sitting in a booth a burger joint. Little did he know that in the booth next to him was quite possibly the most dastardly of all individuals; the tattoo artist who preys on the drunken sot out on the town, yearning for some sort of permanent brand upon his skin. The guy immediately told drunken Joel that he'd be interested in doing the 'stache for him, under the condition that "he was given free rein to express himself fully on the drunk man's limbs."
OK, now to you and me, that sounds like a horrible idea (I'm assuming you're not drunk right now as you're reading this). But when you're drunk, all that sounds like is, "Yay! Free tattoo! C'mon, gang!" And away Joel and one of his friends (probably just as hammered) went in a taxi with the sinister tattoo artist who was no doubt plotting his next fiendish move.
I guess if you're going to look at this on the positive side, you're going to have to say that at least the guy only did his permanent doodling on only one drunken Joel's legs. If you'll recall, the verbal agreement seemed to specifically imply "limbs", as in more than one. But that's the only amount of positive spin that I am capable of, well, spinning because what good can possibly come from being 27 and waking up the next morning after your drunken stupor and finding yourself with a six inch penis tattooed on your leg. Wait. A what now?
You heard me. Behold!
Um, wow. That's...um, something! Listen, I don't claim to be a penile expert. I, myself, don't actually own a penis. I'm not even renting! And I'm also not an expert on Sweden either. Far from, as a matter of fact. But all of that being said, since when did penises (penii?) have four balls and look like a toppled potted cactus? I'm just curious is all!
Did this tattoo artist live a bit too close to a leaking nuclear reactor? What's with the four testicles? You know, that could easily be a UFO blasting off. You never know, really. I'm guessing that the guy is going to have to CLAIM it's a UFO blasting off. It's a hell of a lot better than claiming it's a drunken, four-balled wiener, that's for sure.
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But as much as I question drunk Joel's judgment, I like the guy. I like him because of how he handled the situation. Here's a man who wakes up with a penis on his leg and his attitude toward the whole thing isn't that he's going to sue the life out of whoever took advantage of him. No, his attitude is "I found out afterwards who it was. He works at a studio here. But I went along with it, he didn't exactly force me." That's what I like. That's what I respect. Taking full responsibility for allowing someone to tattoo a malformed, over-balled, grundle on your leg.
We can all learn a lot from Swedish news in English, no matter how drunk or be-tatted it may be, we can all learn a lot.