Who the HELL do you think you are?!

The year was 2007. I was freshly eighteen, had $120 bucks leftover from my job, and a full tank of gas. I pulled up to Raging Rhino, a tattoo shop on the main drag of the Branson Strip. I took a long, final drag from the Marlboro Red I had legally purchased for the first time, crushing it beneath my boot as I slammed my car door. After a 30 minute drive listening to Atreyu’s The Curse album and 13 years of waiting I swung the door open. The girl behind the counter looked up from her magazine, asking how she could help me. I told her I needed to get tattooed. She rolled her eyes, yelling for Ryan to come out.

Ryan was probably 5′ 4″ and 180 pounds soaking wet. He looked me up and down, asking to see my ID. I proudly showed him, and he asked what I wanted. A skull and bones? Knife? Sick-ass panther? Thankfully, he didn’t look too disappointed when I told him I wanted to get “MOM” on my wrist in cursive font in lieu of something tough and manly. The tattoo went great, I paid the man (plus tip, as I had been told it was supposed to be done), and went on my way to show anyone who would look. My mother cried (tears of both her heart being touched AND disappointment), my step-dad was pissed, and my younger siblings were in awe. I was a happy camper.

Fast-forward 16 years. I’ve been in and out of the military, had a daughter and three sons, married the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and overcame addiction. I’ve been tattooed in high end shops, low end shops, dorm rooms, hotels, and even done some on myself (not a great idea, by the way). I have really good tattoos and tattoos I’d prefer to not remember (news flash, they’re fucking permanent).

All that being said, I’ve spent enough time in chairs and under the machine to give my un-solicited opinion. I’ve learned a lot over the years, both what to do and what not to do; especially in social situations.

I hope you find some value in what’s written here. Bear in mind, I’m no artist, nor have I ever claimed to be. The stellar stick figures done by yours truly are a testament to that.

Join me. Argue with me. Correct me. Judge with me. This is a safe space.

Just kidding. Welcome to the thunder dome.

xoxo

-Jake