SNAKES AND TATTOO LADDERS. RIGINAL.
Over the course of 'inventive' history many inventors have enlivened our lives to rid us of the need to immerse in the mundane thus enabling the general populace to ascribe their valuable E time and efforts to such things as Social 'soccer' Media. Enabling mankind to kick on ,headbutt salient points, and gesture communicate with fellow man as if the world will stop turning if your latest partner is cut off via the mobile range. Though i'm sure way down the yellow brick road of love occasionally some wish they'd never met, and that person they thought they loved was a fink after the fact. But that's negative 'finking' at its worst. I could write an essay on love's traps (from what i've heard on love's grapevine) but i would have to charge at least fifty cents. A penny for your thoughts? Best to be an optimist because i know for sure compatible lovers rarely split and if and when they do there's another 'fink' fish in the sea and another latte waiting to scold new lips. After all, any reasonable tattooist can obscure/erase that 'i love you Brad forever' tat near the V line or quite simply deviate the crutch of the matter and ink it into a giraffe, as the spurned grits teeth, spits blood into her latte, grimace shouts...'i hate you Brad you are a fink'- new inscription? But you all know the unfathomable intrinsic female spurned figure eight reversible back flip of Brad inspired guile? Brad enters the tattoo salon chin down turned,serious, declares his love for his "one and only babe" requiring the tattooist to redo the aforesaid to read. 'I love you Brad you are a fink n' if i catch you with that bitch again i'll get this new spiel currently being inscribed in invisible ink, scrubbed off, and i swear i will throw a hot latte over your handsome face, and pull your plug...out of your inflatable surf board.' All this new pain ink writ circumnavigates round my shapely buns so don't you dare try it on again Brad. I know where your hobby lives! Sorry, i'm drifting, i'm watching that inspiring tattoo show whereupon a small tattoo barely visible is turned into a Dragon or a rose which engulfs a quarter of the recipient's skin, and then some? :>) Go figure? Anyway tats beside the point of no return ink. There is much evidence that socializing helps people to socialize and come together in a rhapsody Beet chosen. Not only that, it is a form of communication anyone can aspire to on their mobiles whilst steering off the road in deep angry listening mode to Angie the 'bitch' swearing she's 'off' Brad and their torrid is over red rover. Though Rover looks perplexed. Surprize; panting along jogging, mobile plugged in ear listening to Brad and that bitch at it again? after you installed the minute recorder in the ciggie lighter of the car you bought Brad which will burst into flame spontaneously at your next meet. Unfortunately you are so intent in disseminating the moans and groans 'incoming' you stumble over a cliff whilst intent on trying to resist the urge to scream out "BRAD!...you can't handle the truth!" Paying no heed to other frantic joggers who yelled out. "Look out! there's a cliff! Oh never mind...try to grab something on the way down to break your fall. Perhaps you'll be able to grasp a clump of rattlesnakes nesting in an outcrop that jogged over the same cliff even after their parents told them NOT to go snake jogging with their i pod rattles because loss of concentration smacks of inattention culminating in the necessity for a fang realignment. You miss the snakes, your fall is broken by a tree which also jogged over the cliff feeling rooted, you drop only twenty feet with a bough in your hair. Landing in the back seat on top of Angie and Brad who were parked in the convertible you bought faithful reformed Brad, parked off the secluded road known locally as the 'beaten wack.'
Simultaneously you realize a rattler has lodged under your sweating leaf impregnated armpit and with a quick deliberate twist it 'accidently' lands on Angie's bare bottom. Of course, Brad, of the infused serpent, says "i love you babe! Angie forced me here against my protestation which i mistakenly believed was a top down open air Protestant meeting on the sins of being unfaithful!"
You accept Brad's excuse. Telling Brad to drive slowly to the nearest anti-venom hospital to up Angie's ante and other parts, because it's no good rocking up with Angie yelling her poisoned bum off which in turn could upset other quiet snake bite victims. See how a bit of tree 'give' and snake can work in your favor? If you're currently going out with a guy named Brad and with Brad's disposition after you gave him a new convertible Viper i'd be making other arrangements in the future but then again love works in mysterious ways. Angie recovered, though one buttock resembles a cutting rear mark. You decide to Marry Brad. Brad turns over a new leaf. That tree that saved your life is now mounted in your bedroom. It's a great staple post to chain Brad to. Not that Brad's foliage would ever wander again. I like happy endings, don't you? Don't like the overkill on the tats. I do like butterflies on the wing though. They're delicate and pretty in the right place. Have a great day, remember, there's plenty of finks in the sea. And invisible tats come out in the wash. Cheers. :>)
Nearly forgot...no amazing 'Duh'...but you will won't you- just because...