Somerset Ink

I'm a firm believer in laughter really being a bloody good medicine - thus this blog - and today was a case in point.

Yesterday was hideous - truly hideous - and I got up this morning (after very little sleep and waking up soaked in sweat) feeling even more hideous, utterly convinced that today would be even worse.

But then I met up with two old school friends for a cup of tea (or 15) and we laughed so long and so hard we reached a point of sort of mutual hysteria. It you could package the physical and spiritual effects of that kind of laughing into a 'therapy' and offer it, then people would queue at the doors. There really is nothing like it. As I sat there rocking with laughter with tears spilling down my cheeks I thought 'life is short and if you get the chance to laugh then you really need to grab it and go with it because you really don't know what's round the corner.

And for that reason I shall be eternally grateful for 'Bob' and his 'skills' at a tattooist.

See, the great thing about old school friends is that you get to catch up with what became of some of the people you went to school with (the ones that don't even make it onto Facebook) and boy did we go to school with some oddballs. Take for example the boy who, for no apparent reason, came to school one day naked but for a British Airways towel (on the bus no less).

Anyway, whilst catching up on what happened to one girl (lets, for reasons of anonymity and my own safety call her Jane) a rather alarming tale came to light.

Jane it appears is now married. She's married to man who I shall refer to as Bob.

Now Bob, by all accounts, is a rather odd man (who sits in a corner mumbling to himself) but one of his claims to fame was that he once worked in a Tattoo Parlour. From what follows I presume he was making the tea or sweeping up blood or something, but nonetheless, he worked there (allegedly).

Now someone (and who this person is I do not know but they are, now, clearly identifiable if going topless so you may well spot them) on the estate where Jane and Bob live heard about this and decided to kit Bob out with a full set of tattoo gear and ask him, just like that, to tattoo the image of Leonardo Di Vinci's 'Vitruvian Man' across his entire back.

As you do (if you've got the IQ of a frozen pea).

If you are unsure what the Vitruvian Man looks like (and he clearly was) then here we are:




See his proud noble head.

See his perfectly proportioned, well muscled body.

See his manly organ, the penis (because if you are drawing a man's anatomy it's kind of essential).

See his symmetrical strength and sense of power.



And then feast your eyes on this:



Sorry but WHAT. THE. F***?

See his crazed face and dodgy perm (more '14 year old boy's take on Iron Maiden Album Cover' than 'work of a genius' but hey, we all make mistakes....we just don't generally ink them onto someone's body for all eternity).



See his hands. His hands!!!! How many fingers DID the perfectly geometrical man have? As for his muscles - I think the 'artist' needed another Stella to steady himself by that stage.


See his feet! Well actually you can't miss the one of the right because it appears to extend for about a meter.



While you're looking at his feet you may also want to look at the 'colouring in'. The original piece of art did not look like it had been coloured in by a 4 year old with a brown felt tip but hey, it can be good to add your own twist to things. Then again, it can also be crap.

You may also note that his penis is missing. Interesting piece of censorship there. I guess the conversation went something like this:

Deranged victim: Oh by the way Bob, leave the cock off, I ain't have no man's dick on me back.

Bob: No worries mate (secretly thinking 'phew, one less thing to totally f*** up, I've never inked a penis before, or in fact anything but I'm gonna get away with this....), what do you want me to do in it's place?'.

Deranged victim: Dunno mate, I'll leave it up to you (probably hoping for something uniquely artistic and relevant. A metaphor for a penis if you like).

Bob: Alright mate (thinking, I'll just do some squiggles and colour him in brown, no one will notice he's missing his dick).

According to Wikipedia

This image exemplifies the blend of art and science during the Renaissance and provides the perfect example of Leonardo's keen interest in proportion

and

The drawing itself is often used as an implied symbol of the essential symmetry of the human body, and by extension, of the universe as a whole.

According to me:

This image actually exemplifies the blend of stupidity with lack of talent and provides the perfect example of Bob and his victim's keen interest in high-strength lager, home grown cannibis and not a lot else.

and

The drawing itself could often be used to symbolise to kids just what can go wrong with the human body if you let an untrained idiot loose on you with a tattoo gun and don't even ask for a reference. This example can, by extension, relate to a lot of what goes on in our universe and why we're in such a bloody mess.

My friend summed up the situation up more succinctly by howling:

'That's not the Vetruvian Man - it's f***ing Chewbacca!'.




She's got a point.

The reason I have a copy of the image is because this guy is emailing it out as an ADVERTISEMENT FOR HIS SERVICES. If you want his number, just drop me a line.....

Apparently if you can't pay in cash he accepts Viagra.

I'm just hoping that after writing this he doesn't track me down and exact revenge by tattooing the ceiling of the Sistene Chapel across my arse.

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