It is a wonderful thing when a song’s lyrics define who you are as a person. It’s even more wonderful when you want those lyrics tattooed down your forearm in Courier New font for the rest of your life. But what happens when a person is so complicated that more than just part of a verse or a chorus defines them? What happens when a band’s entire songbook is the philosophy by which one lives their life?
I decided months ago that my first tattoo was going to be a lyric penned by the greatest band of all time, Nirvana, only to then struggle over which lyric I should get. Should I go with, “Come as you are, as you were, as I want you to be” across my clavicle? That just seems obvious. Then I thought of putting, “I think I’m dumb or maybe just happy” on the nape of my neck. But then I wouldn’t be able to see it. And having, “I do think you fit this shoe” on my foot was too on the nose. That is when it hit me … why not ALL of them, everywhere?!
The dude at the parlor looked at me like I was crazy when I slapped the CD booklet for Bleach down on his counter and said, “Let’s start here.” From the moment he put, “If you wouldn’t mind I would like it blew, If you wouldn’t mind I would like to lose” around my ankle I knew I made the right choice. I also got, “I’m on a plain” on the inside of my upper lip and, “I can’t complain” on the inside of my lower lip!
Kickass, right?!
My only issue with how my full body Nirvana tattoo went was wishing we did better space planning because now I have the entirety of Rape Me on my ass and Mexican Seafood on my forehead. Kinda wish those were switched. And Heart-Shaped Box is nowhere near my heart. My entire left bicep just says, “All in all is all we are” over and over again. But hey, like my lower lip says, I can’t complain.
Related: Help! My Anti-Swastika Tattoo Is Just a Swastika Until I Can Afford Another Session
I guess one other problem was that I wanted, “HELLO” across my right knuckles and, “HOW LOW” across the left but we forgot that the thumb doesn’t count so my actual tattoos say, “HELL” and, “HOWL.” It’s kinda cool, I guess, but not fitting the theme. I do like how my testicles now say, “I don’t regret a thing,” which is from Lounge Act, in case you didn’t now.
I still have a little room left on my upper thigh and the bottom of my feet so I’m pretty sure I am going to fill those up with some passages from the greatest book ever written: Journals by Kurt Cobain.