Vlogged- Backyard Ink

by Lori Dwyer on April 30, 2012 · 12 comments

Finally- video’s up. Sorry about that one guys… YouTube ate it the first time round.

I did an extremely stupid thing the other day. Extremely stupid. Quite possibly, the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.

And of course, I filmed it for your viewing pleasure.

Now, before I go any further, allow me to disclaim… Backyard tattoos are an extremely stupid idea. The risk of scarring, blood poisoning and infection are massive and only an idiot would let someone do that to them.

And having said that, allow to present…. My new tattoo.

No, it’s not the Masterchef logo. It’s a spiral- symbol of renewal, energy and new life. Or something.

Which was actually inked by a relative of mine who may have purchased his tattoo gun off eBay a few months ago.

He’s only practiced on himself so far, and has actually done a pretty damn good job on his own designs. Knowing that he is fairly sensible, that he would be clean and hygienic, and that I am… well… I’m not sure if the words here are ’gullible’, ’vulnerable’, ’stupid’ or ’charitable’. Whatever.

I volunteered to be his first human guinea pig. He was excited but reluctant. I promised a simple design. I also promised him that we’d put it somewhere easy to cover up, and that if he did fuck it up, I wouldn’t hold it against him.

And I meant it. Tattoos are life pictures. If I have a slightly dodgy design with a story behind it, inked on me by a family member, then so be it. I’m OK with that.

And isn’t that a good thing…? Heh. He has promised me he will touch it up. I’m not sure if I’m game. The only appealing factor about that is that I won’t have to go to a real tattoo studio and deal with the ’tsk, tsk, tsk, aren’t you a dickhead’ that I will inevitably cop from the tattooist.

So… enjoy the vlog. To give you a basic rundown…. I did not hack the pain very well. There’s probably a dozen reasons why– tiredness, lack of faith in the artist (*ahem*) the fact that my backyard tattooist seems to think a tattoo gun is a fucking texta and the ink will get darker if he carves harder into my skin.

But I’m actually going to blame the basic psychology of it– it’s much more difficult to be brave in your own home than in a studio surrounded by big tough tattooed blokes. Especially when your tattooist cannot stop laughing at you.

Whatever it was, I went into shock and only narrowly avoided vomiting or fainting. Then laughed hysterically.

As you do.

I know, I know… I’m a dick. Pleas feel free to reiterate this in the comments section, if you wish- I have my big girl pants on, promise.

But… hey… let’s look on the bright side. Not only no blood poisoning… but it could have come out much, much worse.

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