What’s Your Thoughts On Tattoos?

Colin Bells Holdall said:
Tramps the fuckin lot of you
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Ha ha, made me laugh, I think Tattoos are hideous but my best mate has 6, his Granddaughter’s names, a Prostate man (he’s had cancer for 8 years and raises a lot of money for charity), two City ones and a “lest we forget” memorial one, all mostly hidden apart from when wearing a t shirt so who am I to judge?
 
Barcon said:
At his funeral they used a hod carrier in place of pall bearers.
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Going off topic, was talking to a rag mate on Sunday, he’s a brickie and now pulling £220 per day and paying the Hod Carrier £150, not bad for unskilled work.
 
Blue Mist said:
About an hour ago I had a midlife crisis. I have no tattoos but have always loved the iconic Che Guevara poster. (Black face on red background) I cant remember the Spanish to go with it, Hasta Siempre ...... something like Always onto victory.

So an hour ago I thought, fuck it, get it done... just have to convince Mrs Mist
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Havana 2007.
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Blue Mist said:
You would have fared slightly better with my missus. When my lad was 20 ? He came home and said 'I'd better show you this', he pulled his sleeve up and showed us a professional and sensible tattoo.

Mrs Mist burst into tears and ran up stairs. He hid his second one for ages and only told me so that I could tell her.
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My dad jumped in to defend me but was soon silenced by mum reminding him of holiday on the beach where he would never roll his sleeves up but rolled his trousers up with the obligatory knotted hankie in his head and showing she meant business by calling him 'Mr Berk' , happy days.
Dad's tattoos were of an Irish piper and a Malta GC one with a couple more done in the war and not really embarrassing in any way.
My aunt was a nurse visiting patients on Moston area. She noticed he had a Malta GC tattoos and told her patient that her brother had one too and it turned out they had both been there under siege with the Manchester Regiment. She told him my dad's name and like a shot (excuse pun) he explained 'that bugge shot me up the arse before we went to France.'
It turned out they were cleaning their riifles after training on the Lingfield racecourse. It turned out dad had not cleared his weapon and discharged a bulletin blank which was a wooden round used for training. Painful all the same.
Mum and Dad would have had a good laugh but had died well before this so the last word on tattoos must have been over my solitary one.
Thanks for nudging my memory.
 
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