Hi. You may remember me as the guy who's getting the Meat Sleeve. Plans for the sleeve were progressing nicely, but unfortunately I just hit a massive, breaded stumbling block in the guise of this picture a tattoo-artist friend of mine just took. Perhaps you recall that after putting the final touches on the pepperoni hooker tattoo, it was mentioned that the next step was getting the Black Flag logo made out of bacon (fortunately it was never revealed that this would be sandwiched between the words BACK FAT). I accept that food and hardcore are universal loves, especially among the tattoo-getting set, and that the Black Flag bars are particularly suited to portraying most objects of interest, but still, this burns me up.I can't even figure out where on the body the tattoo is located, but logic dictates that it is over the heart and, given the owner's doughy girth, that he is, in fact, at war with fried chicken. If this is the case, then I must concede its superiority to the commemoration of my simple love affair with bacon. I'm still going to get my strips, but their deliciousness will forever be tempered by the knowledge that someone in close proximity beat me to the punch.If anybody reading this has or knows someone who has the Minor Threat sheep running away from a grill, could you let me know before I go out and invest a lot of time and excitement in it? Otherwise that one's on deck.
FYI.
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Hi. You may remember me as the guy who's getting the Meat Sleeve. Plans for the sleeve were progressing nicely, but unfortunately I just hit a massive, breaded stumbling block in the guise of this picture a tattoo-artist friend of mine just took. Perhaps you recall that after putting the final touches on the pepperoni hooker tattoo, it was mentioned that the next step was getting the Black Flag logo made out of bacon (fortunately it was never revealed that this would be sandwiched between the words BACK FAT). I accept that food and hardcore are universal loves, especially among the tattoo-getting set, and that the Black Flag bars are particularly suited to portraying most objects of interest, but still, this burns me up.I can't even figure out where on the body the tattoo is located, but logic dictates that it is over the heart and, given the owner's doughy girth, that he is, in fact, at war with fried chicken. If this is the case, then I must concede its superiority to the commemoration of my simple love affair with bacon. I'm still going to get my strips, but their deliciousness will forever be tempered by the knowledge that someone in close proximity beat me to the punch.If anybody reading this has or knows someone who has the Minor Threat sheep running away from a grill, could you let me know before I go out and invest a lot of time and excitement in it? Otherwise that one's on deck.