A recent game of ‘would you rather’ with Carrie triggered an internet voyage through the abyss of bad (awesome?) tattoos. And with what bountiful booty have I returned to share.

Speaking of bountiful booty, I chose the easiest point of departure for the onset of my journey: the tramp stamp. I found this to be disorienting territory with each vestige more puzzling than the last. But I persevered on to fairer blue
waters (blue as this guy’s tattooed blue eyeball) where I happened upon a fascinating ( <– ok, seriously, if you only look at one of these look at this one) people who have developed innovative ways to interact with their physical terrain. I was taken by the extreme conditions that these tribal people face every day of their lives.
Ok, so this is where my expedition took a change of course as I got WAY too into mugshots (apparently thesmokinggun.com will keep me ‘busy’ for hours.)
As for ink, I came across a lot of these (seriously, who gets those?) There were also a few masterpieces I left out for the sake of our pre-adolescent bruceblog regulars. But if you’re interested and can figure out how to disable your netnanny, google image ‘homer simpson tattoo’ and ‘zen pretzel dragon tattoo.’ (You’re google filter should also be off.)
And finally, were there a Bruce Blog ‘Eternal Regrets 2009’ prom, well… may I present your King and Queen.
Using the excuse of being a dj for grade school dances, I like to occasionally listen to KissFM. It’s a convenient excuse when your manhood’s in question for having C’est La Vie (or say levie when spelled/texted by a drunk Kelly) by B*Witched on your ipod. Having just dj-ed a grade school father-daughter dance party last weekend, I thought it would be fun/appropriate to have a post about what the kids are listening to.
Due to their name, I can’t imagine that Brazillian steakhouses are unique to Chicago. I do know that they are popular in Chicago. I’ve only been once, and it was somewhat of a religious experience at a place called
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