Everyone knows I’m rebellious. I wear it on my sleeve. More specifically, on my knuckles. When my buddies and I got drunk at Steve’s and started doing stick-n-poke tats, I knew I needed ACAB emblazoned on my skin. For the uninitiated, ACAB stands for “All Cops Are Bastards” and now it’s there to let the whole world know what I think about the boys in blue, especially now since ACAB has entered the American vernacular.
Shit. Wait. You don’t think everybody knows what it means, right? Do moms not know? The last thing I want is to upset my mom and this would definitely do it. I’d never dream of disappointing her. She’s an angel. I don’t give a fuck what my dad thinks though. Like I said, I’m a rebel.
That’s why I was so careful to make sure she never knew what it meant. Sure, I didn’t think they’d believe it meant “Albino Cats Are Beautiful” forever, but it’s been working so far. One time my little brother said he knew what it meant. I got scared and asked what. He said it had something to do with Fortnight so I figured if I learned a dance to go along with it, I could audible if needed.
But it all went to hell when the mainstream media put ACAB on blast. Punks used to be the only ones who understood my tattoo until I would yell what it meant across the room. Now I see people on CNN marching around with ACAB signs and I can guarantee you they’ve never been to a Dead Kennedys show. I mean, neither have I. But I would have if I had been born earlier, lived in the Bay Area, and punk was more mainstream at the time.
Oh shit. Just now my mom turned off the news and said we need to talk about my “life choices.” I guess the writing’s on the wall, which is kind of ironic because I’ve written ACAB on the wall of every bathroom I’ve ever been in.
Wish me luck! Hopefully, she still thinks my sXe tattoo just means “sexy.”