I am so, so unbelievably upset right now! I’m amazed I can even type my hands are shaking so bad from anger and shock.

It was supposed to be a great day. I’ve been planning on getting a tattoo for years, and my sister offered to pay for it with some of the tax refund she got back. So I made an appointment last week and today was the day, 9am, first thing in the morning.

Got a little lost finding the place, but was still there before 9:00 so no biggie. The place seemed a lot dingier than it did when I had made the appointment, suddenly I was thinking about hepatitis and infection and all sorts of horrible things, and the artist who was doing my arm either smelled like cologne or alcohol. Since it was still so early in the morning I chose to believe it was cologne.

He didn’t say much, but we did go over again the tattoo I wanted – Jesus, with a dove above his head, and between them a waving banner that says “Jesus Is Lord”. Seemed simple enough to me. So he stencils on the design, everything but the lettering, and goes at it.

Now, I have a pretty low tolerance for pain. Low, as in zero. So it sucked, a LOT. This being my first tattoo I have nothing to compare it to, but he didn’t seem to be going out of his way to take it easy or anything, just got in there and poked away. The noise was the worst – I’ll never get that damn sound out of my head.

Anyway, he finishes, mumbles something, and I walk over to the wall mirror to see how it looks. At first it looks great, just a little red and puffy. But then I get a good look at the dove – it’s just … wrong. Not holy looking, or transcendent or whatever, but kind of mean – the eyes seem to be scowling, and it looks like it has talons or something. But that isn’t the worst part – HE GOT THE LETTERING WRONG.

Instead of “Jesus is Lord“, he tattooed “Jesus’s Lord“!!! I just about had a heart attack – between the weird demon looking bird and the screwed up lettering, it looks like I’m some kind of pagan bird worshiper!

I barely remember whatever happened next. There was lots of yelling, and apologizing, and more yelling, but then the desk guy (most of the arguing was with him, the “artist” wasn’t around much once he finished permanently ruining my arm) got all defensive and started yelling back, so I just yelled louder, and it just went on and on. I kept waiting for Rod Serling to step out from the back room and explain that I was in a “dimension, not only of sight and sound, but of mind”. But that didn’t happen. The desk guy finally threatened to call the cops, and I stormed out screaming something about suing him and every hack artist that worked at his dump to the last penny.

Then I flew home with my jetpack to my mansion in Beverly Hills, just in time for dinner with my lovely wife Angelina Jolie (we’ve kept Pitt on as a gardener).

Happy April Fool’s Day everyone!

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