I was just going to have a discreet done on my upper arm, but I Do It For The Ho’s Christmas Sweatshirt the tattooist wasn’t having any of it. Which one is she? And how long have you been seeing this bird, then? I was frightened by the aggressive masculinity of the parlor the other customers who were all firmly wrestling-team muscular and seemed inexplicably amused to see me, the nude women on the walls, the lurid examples of services offered, most of which were conveniently located on Victor’s forearms, even Victor’s mildly offensive language. Long enough.
I’ll fucking be the judge of that, not you. This struck me as an odd way to do business, but I decI Do It For The Ho’s Christmas Sweatshirt died to save this observation for another time. A couple of months. And you’re going to marry her, are you? Or have you knocked her up? No. Neither. So you’re just going out? You’re not stuck with her? Yeah. And how did you meet her? She used to go out with a friend of mine. Did she now. And when did they break up? Saturday. Saturday.
He laughed like a drain. I don’t want your mum here moaning at me. Fuck off out of it. I fucked off out of it. I Do It For The Ho’s Christmas Sweatshirt was spot on, of course; in fact, I have often been tempted to seek him out when I have been plagued by diseases of the heart. He’d be able to tell me in ten seconds whether someone was worth a tattoo or not. But even after Phil and Jackie were ecstatically and tearfully reunited, things didn’t go back to the way they had been.