Tuesday, June 2, 2009

number 12


I looked down, "WHAT THE ****" I yelled. I got an octopus tattoo when I asked for a opossum. I screamed with anger as I grabbed at my octopus tattooed skin. The tattoo artist sat down rocking back in forth in stress. I had to live with this thing on the side of me. And I hated it.

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