It took just over three hours to colour in all 99 of the triangles, and it looks AWESOME. Kerry did an amazing job. I will admit, it hurt a bit when the triangles on the inside of my forearm were coloured in, but the end result was worth it!

Update (2010-04-18): Here’s the link again to the gallery of images I took detailing the progress of my tattoo:

http://www.evanroberts.com/gallery?album=1&gallery=17

She said, “I’ve never seen a man who looks so all alone, but could you use a little company? If you pay the right price, your evening will be nice, and you can go and send me on my way.”

I said “You’re such a sweet young thing. Why you do this to yourself?” She looked at me, and this is what she said:

“Oh, there ain’t no rest for the wicked, money don’t grow on trees. I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed, there ain’t nothing in this world for free. Oh no, I can’t slow down, I can’t hold back, though you know, I wish I could. Oh no, there ain’t no rest for the wicked, until we close our eyes for good.”

Not even fifteen minutes later, I’m still walking down the street, when I saw the shadow of a man creep out of sight. And then he swept up from behind, he put a gun up to my head, he made it clear he wasn’t looking for a fight. He said, “Give me all you’ve got, I want your money not your life, but if you try to make a move I won’t think twice.”

I told him, “You can have my cash, but first you know I got to ask, what made you want to live this kind of life?”

He said, “There ain’t no rest for the wicked, money don’t grow on trees. I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed, there ain’t nothing in this world for free. Oh no, I can’t slow down, I can’t hold back, though you know, I wish I could. Oh no, there ain’t no rest for the wicked, until we close our eyes for good.”

Well, now a couple hours passed, and I was sitting at my house, the day was winding down and coming to an end. And so I turned to the TV and flipped it over to the news, and what I saw I almost couldn’t comprehend. I saw a preacher man in cuffs, he’d taken money from the church, he stuffed his bank account with righteous dollar bills. But even still I can’t say much because I know we’re all the same, oh yes, we all seek out to satisfy those thrills.

You know, there ain’t no rest for the wicked, money don’t grow on trees. We got bills to pay, we got mouths to feed, there ain’t nothing in this world for free. Oh no, we can’t slow down, we can’t hold back, though you know, we wish we could. Oh no, there ain’t no rest for the wicked, until we close our eyes for good.

- “Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked” by Cage The Elephant

You may not have realised this, but, you live in an apartment. This means that as a courtesy to your surrounding neighbours, you try to keep your noisy activities to a minimum. I understand that people like to listen to loud music… so do I. It is also understood that to really experience that 7.1 surround sound system while watching a movie or playing video games, you need to have it at near deafening levels… hey, I’m not one to complain, since I do the same.

But… having a set of drums? At some point, the line MUST be drawn.

Not only is it loud when you play those drums, not only does the concrete between our units do nothing to block the noise those things make (even though I can barely hear any other sounds), but you… SUCK.

You REALLY do. I remember in Middle School and High School that some classmates learned to play the drums as part of band class, and THEY were better than you. Even when they had just picked up the sticks for the first time. Seriously.

Honestly, I wouldn’t have that much of a problem with you playing the drums in the early evening, when I get home from a possibly stressful day of work, wanting nothing else but to relax, perhaps play a video game, watching TV or a movie, maybe even have a bit of a nap… yet… you have no RHYTHM. It sounds like there’s a drunk monkey wailing away on those things instead of a human with the minimal sense of co-ordination needed to ensure the sticks connect with the drums. If you could keep a beat, I probably wouldn’t care all that much.

Please. Please take up another instrument. Maybe the xylophone. Perhaps the guitar. How about the bagpipes? Even if you couldn’t play the bagpipes worth a shit, it would sound better than your drumming. You are THAT BAD. They say that practice makes perfect… but really, I don’t think it’s going to happen for you. Best to just quit now.

So… could you do me a favour and consider it? Otherwise, I might have to toss your precious drums off your balcony.

Thanks. I appreciate it.

Sincerely,

Evan.

In my previous post about my tattoo, Frank asked for an explanation of the fascination some people have for tattoos, and also at the same time, my Mom asked about the significance of the one I’m having done on my arm. I started to write a REALLY LONG comment, and realised this would be better as a post!

First things first, I **HATE** needles. I can’t stand them. The sight of them makes me cringe, and when I have to have one stuck in my arm to have some blood taken, I have to look away. However, this is my second tattoo, and I can honestly say that the tattoo needle doesn’t irk me in the slightest. It’s actually kind of neat to watch the tattoo artist dip the end into the ink like a quill, and start drawing on your skin. At some point, you realise that this is permanent, and it just becomes fascinating.

As for pain, it doesn’t hurt all that much. I would play-fight with Coconut (my cat) once in a while, and he would claw my arm to shreds as he latched on and playfully nibbled on my fingers. I can’t do that anymore as he’d wreck my tattoo… but the process of having the tattoo inked on my arm felt like that. Slightly hurt, stung a bit afterwards, and an hour later, no pain.

When it comes to getting a tattoo, everyone is different. The main thing is that you realise that this isn’t going to wash off, so some thought needs to go into it. My first tattoo is half a red Maple Leaf, which represents my country, and beside it are the letters “OCP”, which represents my close friends growing up, and whom I am still friends with. My Father said I would regret getting it, but still, to this day, I don’t. Frank is right, I don’t NEED to have the tattoo to show my friendship with them, but seeing as how two of them have the same tattoo as well, I find that kinda cool.

I’ve wanted a design on my arm for a while, but I just didn’t know WHAT I wanted. I knew it was going to be tasteful, below the elbow but far enough up the wrist so I could wear a long sleeved shirt and not have it show (if I needed to look respectable), and something that wouldn’t age… for example, I’m not about to get a tattoo of an iPhone, as those won’t be around in 10 years, and if they are, they most certainly won’t look the same.

As for this one I’m getting on my arm, there are a mixture of reasons as to why I want it:

• I’ve always liked simple geometric shapes, designs with lines, and patterns.
• When I saw someone else with this tattoo, it really clicked for me, especially when I researched it further:
  • This is a Polynesian design, and one that has been around for hundreds of years.
  • It symbolizes shark teeth, and also represents a person’s “aumakua“, which is a family god.
• I have a love of the water (I’m sure my being a Pisces is a factor), and the shark is one of the fiercest creatures in the ocean. In fact, when I was younger, I heard about freshwater sharks, and it really freaked me out, especially when I was up at the cottage. I didn’t like swimming in the lake for a time because of this irrational fear. Now, I have a healthy respect for sharks.
• My Father loved scuba diving, and took a lot of pictures of sharks. In a way, this tattoo also reminds me of him.
• When looking at the triangles (when they’re coloured in), it can either look like black triangles pointing down my arm to my wrist, or white triangles point up my arm. I like that little illusion.

In the end, it all comes down to the individual. Some people want a small tattoo, others want a full body tattoo. Some will pick a design off a wall in the tattoo parlour, others will spend years designing theirs. A tattoo can have a special meaning to someone, or maybe they got it because it just looked neat.

I sometimes equate tattoos to other types of appearance modifications. Do you grow your hair long or keep it short? Colour it? Shave it all off? Have a beard? Mustache? Soul patch? Earring? Two earrings? What about your clothes? T-shirt? Collared shirt? Jeans? Slacks? Shorts? Shoes? Sneakers? Flip-flops? All of these things we choose to wear, and change according to the style we want. A tattoo, to me, isn’t too different, other than the fact that you’ll have it for the rest of your life… that is, unless you decide to later get it surgically removed.

I’m excited to finally have this tattoo completed. Should take about three hours, and I’ve got an appointment on the 17th to have it done. I’ll post more pictures then!

Today, Kerry and I put the battle plan we had for my tattoo into action, and by using a combination of a tape measure, ruler, and tongue depressor, she got it all laid out on my arm perfectly. The actual tattooing of the outline took about an hour, and I think it looks AWESOME. It’ll take a few weeks to heal, at which point I’ll make my way back down to Yonge Street Tattoos to have the necessary triangles filled in. If you can’t tell that I’m excited about this, then let me make this very clear: I can’t frikkin’ wait to have this all done!!!

Update (2010-04-02): Here’s the link to the gallery of images I took detailing the progress of my tattoo:

http://www.evanroberts.com/gallery?album=1&gallery=17

It’s amazing that even though through two separate crowbar parties, there is still a LOT of destruction that has to take place. Some non-load-bearing walls need to be removed, the both the upstairs and basement bathrooms need to be destroyed, and let’s not forget the kitchen.

Through all the renovations that took place during my youth at this house, the one constant has been the kitchen. The rest of the house was (poorly) modified, but the kitchen counter and cabinets were never touched. They were the original ones that were installed when the house was built in the 1950s, and for some reason we never got around to removing them and upgrading them. I’m actually glad this didn’t happen as the previous contractors we had renovating the place over 10 years ago did a poor job with the rest of the house, so I can only imagine what monstrosity they would have left us for a kitchen.

Now, we can finally get it all done perfectly. We have a great crew of guys working on the place, and if the work they’ve done in the past 24 hours is any indication, my house is going to look INCREDIBLE once it’s done.

Through out the process I’ll take some pictures to show the progress. Truly, this is an exciting time!