Posted in Life

Long Intro, But Sashimi Rolling, They Hatin’

I came across my two favorite jokes when I was in elementary school. I don’t remember when exactly this happened, because time is a figment of your imagination. I’m not surprised these are my 2 favorite jokes, because honestly they describe me so much. One can be seen as offensive to others, but it’s a hilarious joke, so those who get offended need to chill.

First joke:

Three people are running away from the police, a blonde, a red head, and a brunette. The police are gaining on the three when they notice a pile of potato sacks, seeing as there isn’t much time the three all agree to be animals hiding in the sacks. When the police get to the scene they kick one potato sack “woof” the brunette barked. The police kick another potato sack the red head hissed. When the police kicked a third potato sack the blonde called out “POTATO!”

Second joke:

How do you kill a retard?
Give them a knife and ask “who is special?”

I’ve been having a very difficult time trying to give myself motivation to even write a post. This is what fall season does to me, basic bitches will go post pictures of their Starbucks drinks, or pumpkins in bad filters, and I’m trying to find reasons why getting out of bed is a good thing. I get up to go pee, and then it’s back to bed for me. Depression sucks, anxiety sucks. Both at the same time is a workout. Why should I run when I can have an anxiety attack, it does the same thing for me: out of breath, heavy breathing, exhausted, sweaty, shaking, wondering why that was necessary?

I am actually okay with my weight, the only reason I need to lose weight is so I can get my tits professionally chopped off. I have to be at a safe weight for the surgery, so I don’t feel anything. Plus I figured if I stay this weight, I won’t get kidnapped. Fat humans don’t get kidnapped, eat cake, stay safe!

My birth giver told me I should write a memoir, because my writing skills are amazing, and I’m hilarious…or something like that. My short term memory isn’t great.

This post was just going to be an update of how my depression sucks and I’m trying to hold on, but I decided to make this about my tattoos.

My first tattoo was this faery shadow. I spent about 10 minutes or so trying to figure out how I wanted the colors of her wings. The faery is holding a blue rose, which I researched and apparently blue roses symbolizes fantasy. The freckle at the tip of her foot was not planned to be near my tattoo, it just happened that way. Science Lesbian told me it’s a potato. I agreed. Every human I meet ask if this is a shrine to Tinkerbell. It’s not, Tinkerbell is too innocent for this faery. The shadow is because I didn’t want to think of what she would be wearing, so colored in black with the color in the wings and rose was enough for me. Since this was my first tattoo I went into the tattoo shop anxious, everyone I had asked told me getting tattoos was painful and that this was going to hurt. Even the website said it would hurt getting a tattoo. As soon as the gun hit my arm, I asked when the pain would start. During the procedure I stated that this was the best feeling I’ve ever had, and if I had enough money I would want to be tattooed by multiple artists at once to soak up the comfort. The tattoo artist smirked at this response, I go in anxious thinking it will be painful, end up being upset at everyone who lied to me about this. I did research for a year or so what I wanted my tattoo to be, as well as where I wanted it to be located. I remember my birth giver picked me up one day from work, I sat in the car and informed her that I would be getting a tattoo the next day with money from my paycheck. She told me how my cousin’s wife has a tattoo that she regrets, how a tattoo was permanent, that I should really think about this. I responded I’m not my cousin’s wife, I know tattoos are permanent, that’s the point. Plus I thought about this decision for a while. When I asked to get my nose pierced she told me “it’s your body” so when she was hesitant about me getting a tattoo, I told her “it’s my body.”

My second tattoo was Hello Kitty. (Red bow) I was extremely excited to get this tattoo, despite my poor choices with who I went with to get it. I love Hello Kitty. Plus I believe in the saying “if you got it flaunt it.” My tits are huge! Getting Hello Kitty on my tit was a great choice. She became Hello Titty. Shout out to my eskimo sister for coming up with that name. A year later I got my fifth tattoo Mimmy White, Hello Kitty’s twin sister. It was lucky that I decided to put Hello Kitty on my left tit when I did, because of the bow placement. Mimmy White is known to have a yellow bow, whereas Hello Kitty usually has the red bow. Hello Titty became part of the Titty Twins. Getting Mimmy White on my right tit, felt like a piece of a coming clicking together. The Titty Twins are done by 2 different artists, which I like seeing the different art techniques. I could probably go and have Mimmy White’s eye fixed a little bit, but I’m not going to. She’s special looking (heh heh to joke number 2) and I love it.

My third tattoo was this bisexual pride symbol. Unfortunately it’s a matching set with someone, who I don’t talk to anymore because his views on life are insane! He’s basically like the Westboro baptist church of feminism. He’s one of the humans who’s views are so extreme that he makes other sane supporters look bad. We used to be great friends at a summer camp, then not having seen each other for 10 years he visited me. We went and got tattoos because tattoos are amazing. A couple months after that visit I saw his true personality, and that’s not what I needed in my life. I hate cutting humans out of my life, but it needed to be done. For a while I thought about getting this tattoo laser removed, but I decided to turn it into a lesson. Since I love this tattoo. Now when humans ask me what it means I say “basically it means I support everyone unless you’re a douche canoe.” The fact that my former friend is trans has nothing to do with why we don’t talk anymore. His personality of claiming to be right all the time, then if someone called him out on his shit he would get them to back off by saying “stop oppressing me!” He wasn’t using the word in the correct context, and he wouldn’t own up to his shit. That bothered me. Plus he couldn’t see the humor in the shit life throws. Everything was horrible, and not to be laughed at. I just rolled my eyes, because of how ridiculous he is.

Whenever I see this meme, I think of him. Because this kid looks exactly like him.

My fourth tattoo I got on a Friday the 13th. So this tattoo ended up costing $13. My mental state was not the greatest time to get a tattoo, in fact I should not have gotten this tattoo. For a couple years this was a huge regret. I got this tattoo with the Shopping Cart, he has Skeletor on his arm….or he did I have no idea if he still has it or not. The theme for these Friday the 13th tattoos was 80’s cartoons. I saw the outline of my tattoo drawn on a sheet of paper with other 80’s cartoon characters, it was the cutest one on the paper. What was my main reason for picking this tattoo out? It was cute. Yes, I am one of those humans! When the artist was done with my tattoo he asked me the following:
“Is Orko your favorite character?”
“Orko. The character on your forearm.”
“Oh. What’s he from?”
“He-Man. You should probably watch a couple episodes.”
“Nah, I’m good. Now I can be one of those humans who has a tattoo from something I’ve never seen!”
My former Boss Man watched the show growing up so he thought I was ridiculous for getting this tattoo. Well he thinks I’m ridiculous for other reasons so it’s whatever. A year after getting this tattoo I researched Orko on Wiki for 5 minutes. I gathered what I needed to know, turns out I have a lot in common with this character.
(The scars next to my tattoo are from a time I thought that catching a baking sheet with my arm was a smart choice. It just came out of the oven with cookies on it. The cookies didn’t fall, but I earned my baker’s tiger stripes. I laughed when this happened, because it was a stupid idea, but it was hilarious.)

My sixth tattoo was the word Changeling on my left forearm. If you’ve been following this blog there’s really no need for me to explain why I got this tattoo. If this is the first post you are reading, welcome to my blog! Go read the other posts to understand more.

My seventh tattoo was my Potato! I asked Science Lesbian to sketch it out for me and she did! My Potato is on my left shoulder, which I found out it where the Devil sits in the cartoons of an angel vs the devil. I researched that. My Potato is holding a red notebook and a purple pen, so he can write down my notes. He’s my Shoulder Assistant, the red notebook is because red is my favorite color, the purple pen is because one of my nicknames is Purple Majesty, which is a type of potato. The three spuds indicate my past, present, and future. My former Boss Man was so surprised when I got it, he didn’t think I would go through with the thought. Which is stupid, because it’s me. When I say I’m going to do something, I plan on doing it. When it happens is a surprise.

My eighth tattoo is another Friday the 13th tattoo. This year’s theme was bad luck, so those squiggly lines are to say that the sashimi is rotten. I saw it as a spirit finger type thing. Plus my love for Japanese culture I had to get this design. My friend Ms. Rapture likes to introduce me as: “This is Potato, she has a tattoo of a rotten fish on her arm.”

When I got my first tattoo I told my then doctor that I would stop self harming and get tattoos instead. I kept that promise, I don’t remember the last time I cut myself. There have been time when the urge was strong, I did give in a couple times, but I haven’t in a while. I’ve gotten tattoos instead. I’m currently thinking of another tattoo to get, but I need to do more planning.





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