Give it a score out of 10 on the tasteless scale.
Now, imagine that someone has it tattooed on their body and recalculate the score.
Now, imagine that it is not only tattooed on their body, but is tattooed on the side of the neck so it could never be hidden from view, short of donning a turtleneck (w/ brown elbow-patched blazer).
If your calculator, that most of you will be using to count to 10, hasn’t blown up, this is exactly what the GIRL buying Camel fags at the checkout next to me had last night.
As it was, the side I could see had ‘same shit’ on it, and so excited was I about the possibility that the other side had ‘different day’ on it that I got distracted fiddling about with my change.
The rush was overwhelming. I was looking around me thinking ‘can’t you people SEE!? You’re getting the chance to look at stupidity raised to a goddamn ARTFORM and all you can do is stare at your shopping basket. This is like catching a rare glimpse of the beauty and grace of a Bird of Paradise, but whatever the exact opposite of that is!! Why aren’t you people just on your feet and APPLAUDING!?’
When she had finally gotten her receipt and turned to leave, under my breath I was murmuring ‘oh please...oh please.....oh please....oh please’ and craned my neck just far enough to see - oh yes - ‘different day’ inked into the other side.
Anyway, she walked off through the automatic doors, her like never to be seen again. And the guy at the checkout was smiling and, with a breathtakingly poor analysis of the situation, said to me ‘STOP DROOLING’.