kid muscle.

yes, this is from the simpsons (kudos if you recognized it!). tv raised me. it's only now that i realize how much i've been influenced–nay, infected–by the cartoons i grew up with.

i'll admit i was a huge simpsons geek. well, maybe not huge huge. i didn't recall episodes by their number or even season, but i sure had simpsons jeopardy & a box of krusty o's (thxx jess), could recite several hundreds of lines of dialogue, & secretly wished i could live in springfield. i'll also admit that i fell out of the yellow fever for a bit when i went onto college & thought i should be more growsed up (& the episodes got bad). the problem with having particular interests as a kid/teenager is that people seem to think those are the only things you like, consequently buying you so much memorabilia, your loved ones are the biggest contributors to stamping FREAK across your forehead. i mean i couldn't have a room plastered with simpsons, hello kitty, & giraffes forever, could i?..could i?

so, after a couple of hours tricerahopped-up (tricerahops is an amazing double ipa that packs a punch) getting nostalgic about the golden years of the simpsons with my brotato joseph on saturday, we got branded the next day. i'd like to think i've become a tad more sophisticated, but i can't ever hold myself back entirely. i love this tattoo. just another reminder to myself that farts will always be funny & my heroes are all two-dimensional.

i will always be a kid. & i am totally okay with that. the gets-excited-to-pour-glue-in-their-hand-to-peel-it-off-when-it-dries kind. like ralph wiggum.

long live the flying hellfish!

<3

p.s. sorry you had to find out this way, mom. luff you.