So, tonight I did something for myself at the tattoo studio. I spent two hours doing this to myself:
Say hello to my little ducky… (click to see it on flickr)
Yes. I said to myself. I’m only a little crazy.
I still have to do the color work on myself as a duck, but I’ll have to wait until the kink in my back and my knee straitens out. I’m just not as bendy as I used to be.
I’ve not always had a thing for rubber duckys, but for the last few years I’ve started to collect them for some odd reason, and clients have brought them to me thinking I collect them. So the ducky seemed appropriate. He’s on the same leg as my DNA helix, so I’m sure eventually I’ll have a sock incorporating the two and other “relics” of my childhood that I will feel the need to tattoo upon myself.
Emily Robison and Martie Maguire from the Dixie Chicks will be releasing new music this spring under the name Court Yard Hounds.
Yea!
I love the Dixie Chicks, so I’m curious to see how the sisters do sans Natalie Maines. (I know, technically they were together BEFORE Natalie was part of the Chicks, back when they had a different lead singer, but still.)
The girls are definitely sticking to their guns with writing music covering topical and taboo subjects. Here’s one of the songs off the album, called “Ain’t No Son”.
“Ain’t No Son” by the Court Yard Hounds
I’ve got something to say
I’m scared and so afraid
Can you take me as I am
Come what may our blood is all the same
I’m still your little man
He said you ain’t no son to me
You ain’t no son to me
Eight pound baby boy I bounced on my knee
No, you ain’t no son of mine
You ain’t no son of mine
Aw, forget it girls there ain’t no use in trying
Don’t expect to get my love for free
And don’t blame me
Well this ain’t no fun for me
This ain’t no fun for me
Oh boys should be boys
That’s how it should be
You ain’t coming home
No you ain’t coming home
Til you walk the straight line
You’ll be out on your own
Don’t expect to save your soul for free
When you’re the one who turned your back on me
Aren’t you a sight to see
Yeah, you’re a sight to see
What you call freedom makes you look like a freak
You must get around
Cause it sure got around
Don’t you know that I can’t show my face in this town
Don’t think I’m gonna get you up off of me
When you’re the one who turned your back on me
Stranger, stranger on the wall
When the neighbors come to call
I just don’t know what to say
So I’ll put you away
This time I won’t leave a trace
I’ll fill up the empty space
When I put you, I put you away
I put you away
He said you ain’t no son to me
You ain’t no son to me
Eight pound baby boy I bounced on my knee
No, you ain’t no son of mine
You ain’t no son of mine
Aw, forget it girls there ain’t no use in trying
Don’t expect to get my love for free
When you’re the one who turned your back on me
Don’t blame me
Don’t blame me
Don’t blame me
Shame on you
Shame on you
Shame on you
Been there. Maybe I should write about that someday.
Oh, and I preordered their CD. Based off the music on their website and their performance at SXSW 2010, I’ll love it.
UPDATE: I find it curious that they went with Sony Music Entertainment, especially after the long court battle they had as the Dixie Chicks with Sony. I guess there’s only so many record companies out there these days….
I was tattooing on a 17-year old client. (Yes, 17.) She had a band-aid on her arm. She asks her mother to take it off of her, which she does, with a yank. The girl says “Oww!” The mother says “You’re getting a tattoo, and that hurt?”
I live "just South of inappropriate" according to some and I don't plan on changing that. Don't expect to find much here in the way of deep thoughts, as I have never been accused of having many of them.
