It's quiet around the shop during the first week of May. There really isn't much going on in here.
It's weird now that I've been working here, not doing any paperwork on any numbers, I can still read the tides. What I mean is, I've actually been here so long that not only do I know where the sun sets on the hill from the back door of the shop at any given month of the year, but I can also tell you the best weeks to take a vacation.
We all deserve a vacation.
We deserve to go to unfamiliar places and taste the food. Go and people watch where nobody knows you. Be somewhere, where you are truly anonymous. Live out a small fraction of your fantasies while you're there and engage in the dream fulfilled. All the while staying long enough to long for home.
I can feel the need coming. I am stressed though that I will not have what it takes to taste the fantasy. That I will not have the money it takes to purchase the all to familiar feeling of happiness.
I know you don't buy happiness.
But you can buy comfort. And that can get expensive. Especially if comfort is an expensive hotel or a hot rock massage. Maybe it might be an expensive entrée when a good old food truck may be even better.
Maybe going to see an expensive show that you may not enjoy because the singer is drunk. When you can go downtown and see drunks performing even better for free.
Does any of this make any sense?
I've done a bit of drawing today. I've read a chapter from a few different writers. I watched a little LOUIE CK on the NETFLIX and I'm chilling to a little FOXY by Jimmy Hendrix.
Counting down to five o'clock for my first appointment. Some guy wanting car stuff. I love car stuff.
I like tattooing just about anything as long as it doesn't have eyeballs and eyebrows. Although that isn't always true. I like tattooing animals and skulls and stuff too.
I don't know what I'm doing here. After my last chapter, I imagine I've lost a few of you.
My life used to be a full spectrum of black and white. I had some miserable times but I think about them and it just doesn't seem that I hated them so much.
Ignorance is Bliss. I guess.
My life today isn't a roller coaster. It's more like a drag race. Goals are made and met. Some of them, not as quick as the other guy, but that's alright. I'm still going to finish.
I think about how chaotic my life was, and I look back to where I am and I can see just how far I've come.
I don't talk with imaginary friends the same way as I used too, or as much, but don't think for a second that they don't manifest.
Whispers come from close to you. Maybe your over hearing just what you need in another's conversation. Maybe some powerful gesture of a random person makes you look in a certain direction. Maybe the whisper may come from people directing you directly.
Giving you advice wether evil or Devine. You can only be directed if your listening.
My life before this one, is much different.
Sometimes, I can feel the chaos calling back. It's just an earshot away.
I've got things easy these days. My poppy field has never been more comfortable.

Are you familiar with Enjoy the Silence by DEPECHEMODE.
I used to Love this band in my high school years. I have always loved a lot of different types of music. The older I get, the more there is to like.
Everything I love is with in my arms.
I don't want to go anywhere else.
I'm like a cat. Weird right?
I have had a few different lives now and I'm liking this one best. I have a loving woman who is true and loyal, strong and independent. She doesn't need me. I know that.
I'm glad she wants me though.
I have a life without bags of forget or bottles of fuck all.
I think I have made some great friends along the way and I have gone to great lengths to keep hold of some of my favorite people from way back when.
I guess I write here documenting memories not of tragedies but more so the people that helped me through them. Because it's important to remember the greatness in why you liked them to begin with. The end is never as important as the beginning.
I'm looking for a new beginning of reconnecting. Dropping kindling into cold coals and hoping to reignite a fire that should never gone tame.
I want to rebuild broken infrastructure. Bad bridges and roads leading back to you.
I don't know how I came this far and away without you. It may have been so long, that you're comfortable in your own poppy fields.
The older I get, the easier it is to set a regular routine and live out this programmed lifestyle of go to work. Eat. Sleep. Do it again. I'm invested in it. You're invested in your life.
Really, I just want to grab my chair and find the most desolate place on earth and sit there while watching the sunset with my lady and just chill out.
I got the time ticking in my head. I'm counting down to destruction. Master of puppets. Cry for the Indians. Mama I'm coming home.
All songs on Ozzy's Boneyard playing as I write this.
So it's quiet in here. Let me rant about something.
The subject being annoying tattoos.
Tattoo fads ruin the reason why people started getting tattooed in the first place. A tattoo was a mark on your body that the cops used to be able to use as identifying.
Before if you told the cops that the guy had an armband but you couldn't tell how old he was, the cop already knows that the armband was popular in the nineties so the perp would be in his mid thirties to make d forties.
This doesn't work anymore.
Everyone has a tattoo anymore. And none of them are original.
Today's three most popular tattoos are for guys it's seems, the tree line armband from mid wrist and above. To a compass or pocket watch. Really? Yeah really.
For girls it's infinity signs or basic bitch tattoos like famous quotes or watercolor designs.
Why would you make a very clean outline and then color outside of it?
I will never understand fad tattoos or why they're so popular.
Go into your local tattoo shop and never take your eyes off your tattoo artist. Pull out your phone and say you have this idea that you found on Pinterest. If that guy doesn't roll his eyes at you, never play poker with him.
We all hate Pinterest.
I would rather you picked something off the wall in our shop and get it done than to have you make me trace something off of some bodies skin picture. Or make me recreate another one of those "pinned" tattoos.
Don't even bother asking us about white ink? We all have it. We can do it.
If you make us do it, don't ask us about how we feel about doing it. If we didn't tell you, we are holding back a reservoir of hatred for you when we see you walk out the door after collecting out money.
I may not be speaking for every tattooer you have ever met. Just the artists.
We want to do an original design, that may have been done before but the design is original. We want to shit that is thought provoking. Imaginative and with mind blowing technicolor. We want to do stuff that been done before sure, but not the way we would do it.
We come to work to put out our best. Not recreate a shitty design that takes two minutes to tattoo for a hundred bucks.
Rant over.
I may feel differently about this on any given day. Yeah.
Disclaimer.
Just killing time folks. Have a great day.

               CINCO DE MAYO.
    AHHHHHHH JAJAJAJA HIGH!
  I don't know if many of you know the sound very well if at all.
   In the neighborhood where I grew up the noises of independent Mexicans came loud and out of no where. With Mexican music playing through the night.
   The smells of some of the best Mexican foods were effervescently spread through the breeze over my house and into my open window.
   I remember the smells of menudo and enchiladas and the rich moist aromas of carne asada and al pastor.
   I love al pastor! If you ever get to taste it, you are sure to never care to eat anything else!
    In Rapid City, there are very few Mexican Restaurants. And even fewer authentic places to eat.
   I miss ceviche probably the most. It's awesome!
   I miss Mexicans. I have no Mexican friends here. It's lame.
   I miss Arizona.
   Some days I get homesick. I may have grown up in California but I matured in Tucson.
   Today, I imagine myself at ElGuerro Cannellos. Starting my lunch with some Sonaran Hotdogs and a Carnitas burrito which I would load up with pickled red onions and lime juice with a side of chilies. Mmmmmhmm.
    For dinner I would probably dinner at Mariscos Chihuahua. Where I would kill it! A Fried fish Veracruzana. With the appetizer of Tostada de Civiche!
  I'm sober as fuck, but for the occasion, I would still drink just one Dos xxx meechalada! They're tasty.
    I'm not even Mexican. But I love Mexican anything. Even their candy. Spicy and sweet! I have no favorite really. Maybe the mango pops. I do like those.
   Today, would be a celebration day in any of my hoods, in the past. Today in South Dakota, it's just the day they sell more Cuervo and Corona.
   There won't be any polka base lines bumping throughout the night or any loud AAAAAAHHHHH JAJAJJAA HIGH's!!!!!
   And now that I'm sober, there won't be any coming from me.
  People here don't drink meechaladas. Never heard of ceviche and probably turn there nose up at a fish feted with its head attached looking back at you.
   These are all flavors I never really tasted till brother James brought them to me. I lived in Tucson many years before ever stepping foot in a Mariscos chihuahua. Or ever heard of a meechalada.
   I do miss me some Mexican food. That's for sure.
    I'm a fatty now. What else? I get to taste the flavors of cultures that I would never have before.
   It's funny.
    I used to taste the flavors of Alaskan thunderfuck. Mexican sativa. Kentucky blue grass. Government grown AK47. I enjoyed mushrooms from many forests and pastures. I used to love the many different forms and colors of amphetamines.
    Now I taste the foods of many cultures. Gyros, felafel, pizza, Chinese, Korean BBQ. I love Cuban sandwiches.
   If you BBQ smoked an alligator or a bobcat. I would eat it.
   Maybe a bear steak. It may be greasy but I would love it.
   I have a whole other addiction man. I need to work on that. Jajajaja
   I hope your day is sunny and bright. Be well.
**********************************
I relented and went to a Mexican restaurant here. No names.

Pollo con Crema.
It's not supposed to have broccoli. Not supposed to have cauliflower or carrots. There's no love in cutting these bell peppers.
And the creme?
Come on. Anyone who knows what I'm talking about would agree.
😭😞😭

05062016
   Tonight I sleep in Denver.
   It isn't far from my home but it's still 5 hours away. And although it isn't quite far south, Denver Colorado is a Mecca of races of people. Many colors and many cultures all living in the mile high metropolis.
   We are staying at the Sheraton on the 16th street mall.
    There aren't any cars allowed on this street where we are staying. Just a couple of city buses making rounds and one of the coolest things about it are the people.
   Street performances everywhere.
   There are pianos everywhere and tables and benches with stores and many restaurants. People play the pianos.
  There are people playing guitars. Cellos, violins and horns of every type.
   The street is filled with people going to and fro. Shopping malls are filled with people.
   Today there was a ton of homeless everywhere. Gutter punks. Homeless hippies. Some war vets with missing limbs. Some old folks. A lot of panhandlers. Most people would feel bad about them maybe.
   I do not. Maybe one or two of them. But the rest? I think they are homeless or street people because they choose to be.
   With signs that read, "I'm not gonna lie, I just want a little weed." Or "I'm here for a good time, any help would be appreciated." Those were my two favorites.
    It's their choice to be total shit heads. This isn't a judgement.
  Don't read this the wrong way. I had my time. If anyone wants to shithead, it's their choice. I guess I just shit headed a little differently. My view of most of these lazy fucks is that they're lazy fucks. Jajajajaja
   In my days, I went to work and got my money to get high. These guys are out here begging for their money to get high. And over weed, man. Come on.
   Not even a real drug.
   If I just smoked weed and drank beer, I probably would still be doing that.
   At least a few of these young people were actually doing something for money with no obvious reason other than to perform on the street. Not really begging. Just playing music and skillfully I might add. Cases open like respectable street performers.
   Not the pan handlers I'm talking about. Young kids probably not even 25 years old or maybe some of them a lil older but still. Just vamping people for change and trying to make a nugget by rubbing a couple coins together.
   I was watching this tv show called LOUIE. Maybe your familiar with it. Maybe your not. But this is kind of how I feel about these people. They can't keep a job. Or get one. They don't want to pave their own way in life, they just sit against the wall on the street thinking I'm a dick because I walk on by without making eye contact. Or throwing dollars out of my pockets.

     Maybe I am being a dick as I write here. Maybe not.
    I'm across the street from the World Trade Center of Denver In the 16th Street Mall and these guys are making this place what it is. People watching at its best. They're characters of this place for sure. I love walking down the street and hearing music playing in every different direction and listen as it gets louder as I get closer and there are people break dancing and street robots with suits made with whatever they found appropriate and all these things are awesome, along with the smells of the hundred or so restaurants and coffee shops.
   Weed smoking is completely legal here now. Recreational as well as medical. It's a novel idea. And I can see how it works for the infrastructure and rebuilding roads and bridges and is helping the state in a lot of ways.
   But it's these shitheads who are totally gonna ruin it for anyone else. This is what worries me honestly.
   We legalize this shit everywhere and all the sudden these already lazy people begin using it and then they start popping up in my city. Where I live. Just shitting over the privilege altogether. Begging for change. So they can get high. Without even putting forth effort to earn said coin to begin with. Taking away from those out there who make decent money doing something.
    Making their way. Paving the road to their own destiny with a learned skill. I can respect that. I can get behind people when they're solid go getters.
   I want to tell them to do a cart wheel or something. Get some homeless friends and jump ropes or something. Learn to fucking juggle. Walk on stilts. Do both. Maybe balance a board on something that rolls like a tube or a ball.
   Take up face painting or henna tattoos, but do something down here besides holding up signs begging for pitiful change or for food or drink because you got high and now your glossy eyes and desert mouth. 
   Add to the ambience of what this street is for. It's for the people. People who are adding to this place with their talents and skill. Not by waiting for pity money so you can catch a buzz.
    I was once a street people. I didn't want to grow up. I didn't plan on being alive after 25. I too was as Louie said, a kid who's been sucking up everything in life for twenty years, just judging it.
   I even had a short amount of time being these same so said fuckheads begging for change and cigs. I didn't have a sign.
   I can say that. I never made a sign asking for anything in my life. Not even hitchhiking.
   If you want to even taste some of the things that happen here you can look up 16th street mall Denver CO. You can see a lot of the performers doing their jobs on YouTube.
   It's pretty cool.
   Maybe I'm projecting or its low self esteem. I dunno.
   I don't want to sound like an asshole. Maybe, I'm just getting older. Maybe I have a little resentment for these young lads because I'm clean and sober now. Wether they're lazy or not. Maybe they're here for a short period and then they get it. Or they don't get it and they show up everyday and hang out doing nothing with their day but begging for change so they can eat and get high without doing anything at all.
   I don't know.
   Just because weed is legal here doesn't mean everyone is on it. Or that everybody down here is loaded. I'm not saying that and if I was, that wouldn't be true. Although there are a good few down here smoking that refer.
    And although the cops are everywhere on foot down here, it's legal to smoke weed wherever you want. So you can smell it like every thirty or forty steps and the cops just keep pounding pavement. Weed isn't an issue with the police anymore.
   It's a culture shock.
   If any of them 'could' hear my words of advice it would be that the only--)-> THE ONLY ESCAPE FROM YOUR REALITY IS TO GET REAL. The life you're living is yours, and you alone, are responsible for making it better. You are better than begging for free change. You have the power to change yourself.
  Quit being a pussy. Face your life and make it better. Learn something. You're not entitled after you move away from your mommies house. NOBODY OWES YOU ANYTHING BUT YOU.
   A pocket full change. And still you can't. Damn shame.
   Learn something that takes effort and hard work. It isn't easy. Be dedicated to your future self.
   That is all. Goodnight.

05072016
   So as you know, we made a get away this weekend to Denver. And the reason for this was that one, it's my fair ladies birthday.
   Tancy and I have been together now for coming on 4 years now. She has come to know more about my family and children than I do. Hell I would even go to say that she knows ME better than I do. Jajaja
  It's her birthday. She wanted to go to Philadelphia to see her favorite man up on stage and had tickets there and everything but things didn't work out as she wanted. In a perfect world I would have really enjoyed her smiling and singing along and dancing. It just didn't work out.
   So, we decided to take the time anyway and go somewhere closer. We came here.
   We walked around a lot yesterday and I've talked about it already but the day I dedicated to her entirely.
   I'm updating late tonight because she's sleeping and still she's a beauty.
   We spent the day walking in the rain up and down the 16th street mall in the rain. I know it sounds wet and uncomfortable, and it was, but it got better when we found some umbrellas.
    We went to this restaurant called The RockBottom Ale House. I had Chorizo infused pretzels and Tancy got the house wings. It was pretty good. We drank our drinks and headed back out to the street where it was still raining pretty good.
   We headed north up the street and found ourselves in a familiar area. Top of the mall really.
   We went back to the Cheesecake Factory for a few slices of some cheesecake and a hot cup of dark coffee.

  Happy wife, happy life.
  After this we headed back to the room and then back out to go pick up Tancy's infinity. She was getting it serviced in order to keep up her warranties.
   In return the dealership let her drive her dream vehicle which was a black 2016 qx80. It's a BOHEMYTH of an SUV. It's luxury at its best with big everything. It even had a top view camera in it when you were in tight spaces or driving around close objects. It had motion sensor lights to tell you when someone was in your blind spot. It would stop if someone pulled out in front of you. And Tancy was pretty elated while driving it.
   It was good to see.
   Out venture back to home base was quite the adventure as well.
   We stopped at a tattoo shop to see if they had some silicon plugs for my earlobes. When we walked in the front door, there was a glass case of glass bongs and pipes and dildos. All glass.
   The shop was empty and everyone was just fucking around on their phones and didn't notice me come in at first. Maybe, I didn't give them time to notice before I said something. They had a piercing school in the back of the shop so I was sure they would have what I was looking for.
   Walking into this shop, I felt very grateful that I work in the one that I do work in. Although this shops website had some really great looking work, I felt it was one I didn't want to work in.
   We walked out as quickly as we walked in.
   Getting back to the parking garage of our hotel proved to be harder than we remember and it was a speed-bump in our day but the rest of it was relaxed chilling in our room.
   Tancy met up with a childhood friend, and it was fun watching them reminisce about a few of the 'good ol days'.
  I had some Vampire Tacos and a nacho plate. They were awesome.
   We made it back to our room still in love. I'm a lucky guy.

5082016
  What would we be without our moms?
  They are the first to wash us. Watch us and carry us. They lift us. They ground us.
   My mom was an orphan raised in the villages of Philippines from a young girl by relatives. She has told me stories of her childhood and I am thankful that I wasn't raised in the same environment.
   My mom always felt like an outsider and I'm sure that there were a few reasons why she may have felt that way growing up in the time she did but what really put her on the outs with her inner family was that she got pregnant by a sailor.
    They were married and he brought us to America when I was three years old. When we came over, my father was put out by his family for marrying a foreigner.
   This caused a lot of problems with them both. America was a different place in the mid 70's. And let's just say, on my fathers side of the family, they were not fond of my mother.
    We went from a poverty ridden vicinity to the rich plush lands of Iowa until my father was stationed in the rich lands of the golden state, California.
   Not even a cool part of it. Deep in the San Joaquin Valley where he finished his contract with the US Navy and then became a truck driver transporting all sorts of vegetables everywhere in the state.
   He eventually moved on after a separation with my mother and I didn't see him too many times after that.
   My mother worked long days and nights in a factory to keep us afloat. She never called in sick. She never gave up on us like I viewed my father doing.
   What I viewed of my mother was nothing short of tough.
   I seen her break down. I seen her rise.
   I was not easy to raise.
    I wanted things and she couldn't afford them. I began stealing from stores at a young age. Sometimes I would get caught.
    She taught me values that didn't take till I was much older.
   But I will tell you a story about one of the things I wanted.
   I wanted candy, and she didn't have the money for me to have it. I looked back and around, and then I started stuffing a few packs of M&Ms down my jacket sleeves.
   There was an old lady behind us and she saw me shoplifting these packs and she gave me a low brow and a smile and nod. As if to say, grab some more.
   So I did and I looked back at the nice lady and she smiled.
  I thought I was doing it right. Jajaja. I did. I was only maybe 8 years old then. My sister was six and she knew what I was doing and I'm glad I took the extra pack, because I was going to have to pay up.
   I remember almost making out of the store when I heard the rattles and packs of candy rubbing together making their way towards my hand. So did my mother. She heard them too.
   She grabbed my arm and lifted my hand and all the packs of candy fell out of my jacket.
   She was sooo embarrassed.
   She looked at the store manager and thought for sure that we were all going to get into trouble. My mom cared so much about how people viewed us.
   We were already a poor family. And she didn't want any more bad attention.
   The store manager came over and helped my mom pick up all the candy. She was panicking. I was just upset that she caught me. 
   It might have been better if I was caught by an employee.
   "I'm sorry sir! I didn't know he was stealing. I feel so bad about this sir! Please do not call the police."
     She went back with the store manager and after a short while came back with the look of death in her eyes. She was so angry. She was going to kill me!
    I was scared. I was scared as fuck.
    We pulled our bags from the shopping cart and she made me carry the gallons of milk.
   I know this sounds ludicrous.
   What you do not know is that my mother doesn't drive. We lived in a trailer park about a mile or so from the store and usually carry our groceries from the store to our house.
   Carrying two gallons from point a to b, for an 8year old can be tough. She usually let's me take breaks but not that day.
   "Keep moving Kebin" she said. My mother has a Filipina accent.
   I was crying already cause I was in trouble and this walk never felt longer. The pain of the weight was working on my neck and shoulders.
   When we finally made it home, I thought I was done. I thought I was in the clear.
   Usually my mom puts everything away while I go ride my bike around the trailer park. Not this day!
   I had to put everything away by myself as she scolded me for my behavior and how disappointed she was messing with her reputation and all that stuff people care about when they're older.
   How those people were going to watch us when we are in the store from now on. And so on.
    I was hearing her. But I wasn't listening too well.
   She came from her room with another bag.
   She told me to sit at the table and she sat in front of me.
  "You like candy, Keben? Do Jew?" She said. She had an evil glare in her eyes that I had never seen. I thought she had a knife in the bag and was going to chop my fingers off or something like when I watched her butcher meat.
   Instead, she pulled out two cases of M&Ms and said, "fine, Keben, eat!"
  At first it was a dream come true!
   "Patreesha? Would you like some chocolate milk?"
   My sister Patty, came to the counter as my mom made her a chocolate milk with the Hershey syrup.
   Patty was content. With her chocolate milk and me with my M&Ms. I started putting them away. One pack after another.
  "You eat dem all, Keben!"
   And then after about the fourth pack I started to feel the effects of dry mouth and caked chocolate running the lining of my esophagus!
  "Can I have some chocolate milk?" I said with begging eyes of innocence but my mother said "No! You dem' all! Patrreesha? Would you like more chocolate Milk?"
    Then I felt like I was in trouble again.
    I got about half way through the second case laughing and crying and making a deal about how thirsty I was. I was so thirsty.
    She was laughing and yelling at me.
  "You will neber steal again Keben? Neber?"
   I promised that I would never get caught stealing again!
   Although I did get caught a few more times in my teenage life, I never got caught while I was with her. Jajajaja
   She didn't want people to look at me as though I was going to do them wrong. She wanted me to be great! And I wasn't going to get anything I wanted doing what I was doing.
   She carried me first and when I became too much to handle, she did what she had to do. She had to take care of my sister.
    As life went on, she remarried and had two more kids and she had to take care of them too.
   People would talk bad about me at her work because I would get into fights with their kids or get into trouble and it was what they did there at work during break.
   I was inadvertently making troubles for her and didn't know it.
   Our kids are a reflection of us as parents. And my reflection was shining brightly for my mom.
   She hated her job but she clung to it and supported us anyways. My step father and I didn't get along at all, but my mother still did what she could for me.
    In my teenage years, all I wanted was to leave home and when I would run away, she seen that it got me into a lot of trouble with my PO and caused me to go back to juvy for much longer periods of time. So she didn't call me in and I could run away as long as up to two or three months. 
    She sacrificed everything to raise good kids. And she did raise good kids. We have all moved on and made families of our own.
   Only now that in older have I learned the lessons my mom was trying to teach me.
   Go to work. Work hard. Be aware that everything you do is under the microscope of those around you wether you see them or not. Don't put yourself in bad situations. And that even a poor kid can grow up and live a decent life.
   Just start working for it as soon as you can.
   My mom wasn't perfect for anyone else but me. Being a young adult and a mom couldn't be easy with me as her child and God knows she put forth an effort.
    My fondest memories of her are a secret. Untold true stories. Looking back I see the most powerful person in my early life as her.  She was doing her best! Just acclimating to American Culture is hard enough, but to be a single mother of two kids is even harder!
   I love my mom and our

family. She doesn't like photos all the time or much at all. I am just happy that I cleaned myself up long ago so that we can spend time together these days!
    Happy Mother's Day ladies!
    I still have trouble eating a snack pack of M&Ms. Jajajaja.

   05092016
   Week begins again tomorrow. I left and got the hell out of town and now I'm back. The shop was virtually dead all last week.
   I had plenty of time to write while I was there last week so I had enough time to get bored enough to rant and what not.
   When I walked into the shop today, I found that I have plenty of work and none of it is really ready so, I guess I will be early in tomorrow morning to get all my art ready for the day.
   It was a fun lazy few weeks after tax season ended and now my tourist season begins.
   If you're a parent, you know that school is gonna be out in just a few weeks. And if your a college kid around here, you took your last exam last week. And I live in one of Americas greatest tourist traps of all time.
   One of the top ten attractions in the USA. We attract many different states. Everybody needs to see Mt. Rushmore at least once in their lifetime. And after that the Crazy Horse Monument which is still under construction for more than Fifty years.
   We have climbed it before. It's quite the site.
   On top of all these things, the hills have much to offer the family here in the Black Hills.
   Maybe you have seen Black Hills Gold in your local Walmart or Kmart. That crap isn't anything worth what your paying for it. Authentic BHG has a much denser much heavier weight and isn't cheap. Its very pretty.  Way prettier than what you might find in those stores.
   Tomorrow I get to tattoo a mendhi short sleeve on a girl. This will start off my day. I will have some portions drawn before she shows up and the gaps I will freehand draw in. Should be kind of challenging. I've tattooed her before so she knows how I work.
  The second one of the night, will be my favorite of the day. I love tattooing comic book characters. And this one will be Venom, Spider-Man's nemesis. I haven't ever tattooed one before. It's going to be fun for sure.
   If I pull it off well, I should be able to tattoo Carnage another enemy of Spider-Man.
    This guy is going to piece together a whole sleeve of villains and heroes. One at a time. It's okay. I'm patient.
   I cannot believe how fast the time has gone by this year. It is crazy. My routine is so usual that I find it unusual how much time went by.
   I'm going to have to hustle though man. I have made an appointment with a world famous tattooer named Akui Sale. He well known in my world by a great deal of Tattooers. I respect him, and his work. And I can't wait to finally meet this guy.
   We chat from time to time on the Facebook and I've purchased his works of art and tattoo machines. They're pretty nice.

   I've been getting a lot of laser removal done on old tattoos.
  I'm a huge fan of erasing unwanted tattoos. This is my third removal done on my calve and I'm not going to lie, I love it! Absolutely love it.

  Now I have seen people literally whine and tear as this was being done to them. Not me.
  I curl my toes a bit but after the first few zaps, it tones down, pain wise and evens out. What may have taken hours to tattoo, is removed in quarters of an hour. I wish I could laser a few memories and have them vanish away like these little pieces on my skin.
   This particular tattoo was a a dragon wrapping around my whole calve with a castle and it was covering up a shitty sun I had tattooed on me when I was 16. The coverup happened when I was 21. The tattoo still sucked and the old one came back through anyways.
   It's going to be nice now for sure. I've erased most of all the solid blacks out of it as well as most of the Reds.
   I've removed a lot of tattoo work from my body over the years. My upper right arm. My whole back. My right thigh. Almost completely disappeared.
   No worries. I plan on getting new tattoos that will look way more rad.
    I've been getting tattoos since I was thirteen. I didn't always get them in tattoo shops and since I've written here you can imagine some of the places I got some of my early ink works. Jajaja
    Anyways, I've put a 200 dollar deposit down on my tattoo appointment and I've got to get all my bills payed as well as come up with 800 more bucks in a month. Plus have enough money to make my way to California and back plus have some time with my oldest son.
   I've been waiting for these things since I found some clean time under my belt. And now, earning everything I get has been exactly what it's been about for me. Earning it.
    I have some hard work ahead of me. It means a lot more when you do pave the road you get traction on. And I'm gonna leave some marks for sure.
   Hey, I don't know if you're reading this. I don't know if you really care one way or the other. We are looking forward to meeting with you soon. Weeks away man.
   Not tattooing this time. Just making time for you. We hope you want to do a beach day. It's going to be tight!
   It's going to be a big day for me.
   I can't wait.
   I hope you're heart is open and you're having a great day. That this found you in great moods. I've got to go.
   Good night my friend.

05102016
Kick starting today had me beside myself, just like my scrotum and balls.
"Just keep moving dude." I had to say to myself. "You can not slow down!" I said.
I was beside myself just coaching me right through the day.
Not every day can be best. I always strive to make it so but whatever. Today wasn't a terrible day but for a good part of it, I was struggling.
No energy. Not even enough to be creative here. Not even a little.
I have an even bigger day tomorrow. These days are the best. They let you know what a bad days like. And if this one wasn't all that bad, I still know what the best ones are like.
This isn't it.
Much love. See you tomorrow.
I know it's shit writing. I know that hasn't stopped me before. But I think it's fine for today.

    05112016
   Truth be told, there is nothing like leisure time.
   It's like extra time to complete projects that you don't use right? I seem to have mastered lazy time.
   Yeah, I know there is shit to do. But it will get done when I'm ready. I'm chilling the fuck out.
  My shop is filled with chit chat and I'm here in the back corner, just killing time. Waiting for an old dude that I get to tattoo.
    He's an old redneck biker vet!
   Probably in that order too. Tattooing old dudes is fun. They have told their kids these stories already a hundred times. But I get to hear them for the first time. And I love it.
    War stories. Biker stories. Redneck drunken stories.
    I love them all.
    I know. It's cool to read them and all but the best stories for me are the ones that are told! Spoken word stories.
    Maybe you write stories.
    But I ask you, do you tell them too? Or are you an introvert and just recoil at the idea of good conversation?
   I cuss a lot when I chat. I like interacting with people when I'm in the shop. It's pretty much my environment. It's where I feel the most comfortable with myself as well as its the place I meet with most people I have never met. I can be abrasive when you first meeting.
   Most criticisms of my demeanor are, from what I've been told are such as this. Abrasive. Sarcastic. And condescending a slight bit.
    I can not hide my face. It's true. Sometimes I may seem this way.
    Whatever. Dish it back and we will get along really well.
   That's what I like about old military redneck bikers. They're so comfortable with themselves that there is nothing I can say that really gets to them. Jajajaja I love it.
    Now you get me at a store, or park or at a party and I'm out of my element. It's not a place where I am functionally sociable. Out of my element and I may seem like a social introvert. Shy and weak. I get a little lost trying to function with more than three people at once.
   I know. It's funny, right.
   Don't even put me somewhere, where there is a lot of movement. Or worse a television. I will lose track of anything going on in conversation. I don't know what that is about me. Honestly.
    That's what I like about the shop environment. It's mine. This place is my home. And I feel like a totally different person here.
   One of the craziest things that always happens here is that randomly people who do not know each other will come in and ask for the same things. It's weird.
   This week two different people wanted me to draw up Crystal tattoos. One is a scorpion and a tree growing up out of crystals with water coming out in the background.
   The other one is a three eyed fox wearing steampunk crystal goggles with a third eye open in the center of its forehead. It has standing ears with crystals growing out of them. And in between the ears are a bunch of mushrooms.
   Both of these will be original ideas and I'm totally excited about them.
   The day isn't over. Maybe I will make it back to you again. But if not. Hopefully this is better than yesterday.

***********************************
So.
The appointment time came but the client did not.
A no show.
So I'm hanging with myself like my scrotum and balls!
That's total poop. I was looking forward to it too.
I was bored. I will admit it easily. I tried to play some games on my iPad. It killed a little time.
Yeah it did. But it bored the shit out of me. So after losing to my best score again at this new game I've been playing called Merge, I decided it would be a good idea to check out Facebook. I usually thumb my scroll just looking at pictures and stuff but today, I guess I started to just read the threads instead.
It's funny, but since I've been writing in here, I haven't really been there. I think it's funny how people will post anything there.
Hey, I'm not a hypocrite. I've posted everything from food to toilet paper. I'm no joke gonna show every tattoo and all things that are rad!
I even post stuff that other people have posted weeks ago and I'm finally seeing it. And sharing it.
But even if I'm having a shitty time in life, I will never air it out on a social site.
That's what my wattpad is for!
I kid. I kid.
I wouldn't ever post situations on my Facebook that didn't look like it was awesome. I have so many haters! Jajajaja. I would never want to let them smile for anything.
Today I read about people breaking up.
People getting together.
People who were mad about their ex going out with someone else. People wanting to know what people thought about their ex fucking someone else and the trying to get people to jump on the hate wagon.
I read about people having birthdays and sober birthdays. A lot of my friends are in recovery. If you don't know what it means to be in recovery, it's cool. It's hella cool to see someone have a sober birthday. Anywhere from a few months to 30 years.
I seen a few sad dudes. It's funny how you may have a few friends going through the same thing at the same time. I should start a Facebook group that's closed or secret for the purpose of letting these folks know they're not alone. Jajajaja
I wonder if wattpad has a Facebook group. Add me. Just another way to communicate with my wattpad folks.
This went on till we closed the shop tonight.
Nobody cares where your baby daddy is or who he is with or where or when anyone saw them last.
Sometimes I feel like just shutting it down and stepping away from all of the political posts all together. In my opinion, Clinton and Trump both suck, and it's shitty that nobody else is worthy enough or better at telling us better lies than them. You know, the ones we want to hear? It's a total shit show when it comes to politics over here in America.
As a felon, I'm not allowed to vote anyway.
Anyways on my way home, I was happy to be in my car.
Do you listen to Pandora?
I Pandora One! No commercials. It's awesome and I have it linked to my Facebook! Jajajaja. You can follow me and listen to music that I listen to or vise versa! I can listen to music you listen to when I get bored of the tunes I've been listening to.
I made my own station called Bi-Polar and it has quite the arrangement of music. It switches from India-rap to country to acid rock to classical modern, to 90's grunge to alt rock. And on my way home, I got to listen to this little diddy by Wax, who is probably in my top five rappers of today. Maybe you've heard it.
Probably not. It's called, STAY OFF MY FACEBOOK.

Kind of set me off on this tangent. I thought I had fed the social media monster enough today.
Still though WAX is the shit.
Maybe we shouldn't make a secret Facebook WATTPAD Group. Jajajaja
What do ya think? A place where we can be social on a site that is connected to another site? People can check up on my story and be like, "Nono no! That's not what your Facebook looked like today!"
Alright well. Get atcha boy! I hope this finds you in good spirits. It may have not been a great day, but it wasn't bad!
See you around!

  05122016
   This life we are all living so far apart from one another. The connection made with so many and I'm longing for one.
   Our days can not be so different. Eat, work, leisure, and write or read then sleep. Our homes all have some different things but a lot of it is the same.
  Like silverware goes in the top drawer in the kitchen pretty close to the big spoons and spatulas and mash potato smasher. Knife block. Microwave. Fridge. We have a wine fridge. That's might be different.
   Every kitchen has a trash can near the sink. Your dining table is Farley close to the kitchen. Mine is not really a place where we eat so much as its a place where we pile stuff like mail or loose papers and magazines.
  Most of our homes have more than one tv. We have three.
   We have a desktop computer and a couple lap tops and iPads along with all of our iPhones. I pay for 4 of them myself.
   At least one couch. I would bet you have a couch and maybe a chair in the living room. Perhaps you have a pet, plant, or a jungle of foliage visible from the front door. 
   Everybody has a bathroom. And even though you know it is good hygiene, your toothbrush sits out in the open somewhere near the sink. If not in the medicine cabinet.
   What I'm getting at here is that we are not so different.
  We have egos and contradictory feelings and stupid emotional limits. Breaking points and what nots.
   Today I was the day I was going to tattoo one of the things I was pretty excited about doing.
    The no reference scorpion, tree, crystals, with the  branches all woven into a crescent moon. With the waves of water pushing out from the trunk of the tree.

"I promise I won't make you CAHNGE anything man." He said.
   Shows up this morning and cuts everything out of it and makes me change all of it.
   Jajajja I wanted to kill him.
   He tracked in a bunch of tar with his dirty sneakers. There were oiled up marks from the front door to my station where it looked like he walked a hundred circles. This guys day wasn't starting out very well. His first tattoo experience and I'm cussing at him.
   It was the way I talked. I didn't realize that he didn't know me well enough to know that's the way I talked all the time. He was shaking he was so nervous.
   I don't hide my frustration. I would rather let you know that I'm pissed and move on rather than keep it held in the whole time. It tends to make things worse really.
   Marked up floor. Tattoo with some time wasted since I didn't use the original drawing. And now starting late?!! I may have been shaking a little myself.
   Jajajaja went ahead and drew up a whole other design for him and still finished it up before our appointments end.

I wish I had a little more time. This hippy tattoo would have been a little more thought out. But it is what it is now.
   We are flawed people trying to reach perfection in an imperfect world. All of us the same. I wish I could stop seeing the differences and recognize more of the similarities. Many more of them.
   There isn't a lot of time in this world. We all need more time to achieve the goals we have set.
     I'll be there soon.

05132016

A chance to redeem myself from yesterday. I've got to get through some speed bumps but I will eventually get there.
I have a girl coming from Sioux Falls SD who wants a BOHEMYTH of a tattoo for only a few hundred bucks. She isn't going to get everything she wants. But she will be getting something.
And then a cross cover up with his moms name in it because she passed away. Memorial tats are always good but it's a crappy way for me to make a living.
Eh, people die though. And their loved ones want to remember them. If I'm here to do work, I'm here to do it.
And the closing tattoo is a fennec fox with all the do stuff in it. I'll post pics tonight.
Have a great day out there folks. Today feels good

                    **************
   It seems that telling you what I'm gonna be doing is bad luck. Even with scheduled appointments. Even if they left a deposit.
   First one showed.
    Second one did not. Hoping he best for the third one.

My vape is full again. Killing time till whenever. I have about 35 minutes till whenever may happen.
My vape gives my hand something to do as I punch dents into the screen of this phone.
Seems there are complaints about people not getting notifications about posts you follow. That sucks.
When I started here I didn't write because of stars or eyeballs or hearts or comments. It was just something I was doing to connect with my son who used to write in here.
I don't know if he is reading any of this.
What I do know now is, I totally get what he was writing in here for.
I have a new connection with the app. Mostly the few people reading or commenting. The connection with you. People who joke. People who comment. Who write stuff. As I read some of the stuff I do around here, I get a piece of you too.
It's been fun.
Learning your imagination or the real you. Learning how you deal with your children.
Learning how your imagination creates a great something from nothing.
Reading your fantasy about being a good mom and an assassin.
Ouija drawing and creating shapes that become rough drafts to something much more magical.
How you craft! Man there are a lot of people in here who word smith the shit out of me. I'm too solid of a man to be tear jerked. But I definitely can see a goal needs to be reached to reach you.
Poets! I lack the the count for the syllable and word fraction. You could be info rappers.
I write about my life, but some of you write about life changes you've helped others make. Selfless acts of optimism and perpetual esteem. How high I hold you.
Philosophers, your deep thoughts just poured out allow to see you ask the questions of stuff I've never thought twice about. When I sit and try my best to think about writing this format, I struggle like a hung villager in the square holding his last breath just before gasping and staring soulless into the sun rise. I simply am not there.
Witness statements that seem far fetched, written with charisma and solid confidence make me wonder if they truly happened or not.
Rants? Shit so many of the same things, I laugh as I read your ramblings.
Who doesn't like a cheesy pick up line. I know I laugh when I read them, yet, I lack the confidence to actually use them. Hilarious.
Instead of just writing to reach a long lost loved one, I found many to love.
Our hearts are the same. They're all built exactly the same. Anatomy wise. We are the same. Just as you think, there isn't any more room for anything or anyone else, you find that there is.
There is plenty more room for a new song, favorite food, new pet, new people, new friends or even a spot for me.
I'm lucky to have space.
Your steam punk adventures.
Your poor pity bully stories. Your diets. Your self help series. You two worded chapter goons. You WATTPAD knowitalls! Teaching people how to write a successful series on this app.
This place and I have grown so much this year. I guess shit changes.
We all have in common the wish for nothing to do so. We were happy with the way shit was. But everything on the interwebs must be updated.
Sometimes, I think I need to be updated. Hey, ☝🏽️if you could get me back to 💯 that would be great!
    LIFE INTERRUPTED has interrupted many of boring moments and held my hand through some of the dullest days ever. Get interrupted if you need be. That shits fun and uplifting and reminds me of nothing too serious. And I like that.
   I read about a guy who goes to coffee shops and goes in depth about what they look like and who or what's happening while he's there. What he payed. I now know what coffee shops are good in Iowa. I think in Des Moines area they have enough coffee shops to  write a book.
    Even if my son chooses not to comment, it's okay. I have looked forward to reading and responding to yours. More important to me than the vote. I don't care about being famous.
    What is wattpad famous anyway. I'm not trying to be famous. I'm pretty well known already. Well enough anyway.
I can't go anywhere without people noticing me. Walmart or the hospital.
   I'm happy. Now. Today.
   That's all that matters.
  4 more minutes till my appointment. I can't wait to show you all this tattoo. I've been waiting all day for it.
*********
Hell yeah! Finished it. It looks awesome. Tonight, I go to bed feeling like I did a decent tattoo.

So I don't know what else to tell you. I put my heart into all I do, and even if it's still not good enough for me, people seem happy.
So it's Friday the Thirteenth in May. I think I am done with today.
Let me leave it here with a dumb Friday the 13th video by Froggy. I first heard of him on a Tosh.o television show. Have you ever seen it?
I used to think that Tosh may have been a little racist but then with a little time, I realized that he was making fun of reinforced stereotypes.
Enjoy some Froggy Fresh. I'm out.

Good night, my friend.

05142016
    It was a great day at the he shop.
  Bi finished this up today and it was the most stellar tattoo of the week really. Next week is a lot of the same stuff.
    Tattoos.
    One right after the other. It's hard not to get caught up in all the work and the pace. Our shop is high volume and we help quite a few people a week when we are busy.
    It's pretty wild in here sometimes.
    Burning out in this atmosphere is normal though. I look forward to the California goal and getting my ink, meeting my son again and seeing the pacific once more. Not necessarily in any order but yeah. I'm hoping for a good trip with my boys.
    Father's Day week.
    It should prove to be memorable.
    As my work day ends, I think on these things. It won't be long.
    Just weeks away from now. I'm going to be so broke when it's over. Jajajaja

   Fucking Eagles!
    I hope I get to tattoo you someday. Wouldn't it be rad? I think so.
    Even though you may never make my acquaintance in such a way. It would be good to give you something that you can carry with you for the rest of your life.
     It's what I do. I tattoo. I make memories and the tattoo is a marker of that memory. With you forever.
    It's an honor to be carried for ever. To be imbedded in the window of flesh. To age with you eternal. To be remembered forever if even it was a moment where we sailed together. A memorable moment.
   I tattoo. That's what I do. It feeds me. It pays my way through life. It's created so many great friendships. It's created so many relations. On so many different levels.
   I am lucky. Lucky to have something like this. Lucky to be still alive. Lucky to have a home and a wife and family. A life I never could have seen possible ten years ago.
   I am lucky to know tragedy. I am lucky because now I can appreciate this greatness of life.
    I am lucky to have had you. Because it gives me something to cling to. Something to share with you. Something to have with you.
    I have been a taker, my whole life, I have been the kind that just takes and takes. And now, I have so much to give. To pay forward.
    I am lucky to have lived. I am luckier to have found love.
   The zest for life again.
     How did I get here? I am lucky to ask the question.