Why I love Texas:
Recently my friend Mark was at a tattoo parlor here in Houston. A rough-looking older lady who worked at the bar down the street walked in and with an accent almost exactly like Granny Clampett declared loudly “I want two tattoos on my tits.“ When the tattoo artist told her she’d need to lower her shirt slightly she sneered at his hoity-toity demeanor and whipped them out, holding each of them in her fists like she was wrangling angry hamsters in tube socks. “What’s the big deal?!” she exclaimed. “They’s just tits, y’all.”
On one boob she wanted a heart with “Tiff” written on it, and on the other she wanted a broken, bleeding heart. Soon a small crowd had gathered around topless Granny Clampett. Someone asked who “Tiff” was and Granny thought for a few seconds before finally deciding “Well, I guess she’s my girlfriend”. She got a call on her cell phone just as the artist was finishing up and she started screaming indignantly “No, I am NOT at the tattoo parlor! I’m at work, dammit!”
Then she hung up and smiled smugly at her newfound entourage. “Oh that’s my damned husband. I told him I wanted a tattoo and he said I couldn’t get one.”
*Huge pause as everyone at the parlor looks at each other.*
“Um…but…won’t your husband know you got one when he sees your chest?”
*Slow look of realization passes her face*
The tattoo patrons look wide-eyed at one another, desperately trying not to laugh.
“Uh…lady? Does your husband know about ‘Tiff'”?
*Drops her head in her hands*
“Oh, damn it.”
And that’s why I love Texas. Because of crazy old ladies, the Tiff’s who possibly love them, and most especially for people like my friend Mark who (knowing that none of you would actually believe this) had the foresight to ask Granny if he could take a picture of the finished product, which he graciously sent to me.
Pretty-much safe for work.
Not safe for any other living thing:
I added the upside-down figgy puddings because I know a few of you might be easily offended, although I’m not sure why.
They’s just tits, ya’ll.