I got another tattoo yesterday! But that's not the gay part. (OK, it's totally gay for an almost-41-year-old man in a blissfully happy marriage to permanently mark himself in a way that calls attention to his body. But this post is about how I'm gay in a different way.)
The tattoo is on the back of my arm. And since a tattoo is essentially a massive flesh wound, it bleeds and oozes and scabs for quite a while before it heals into its final state of faux masculinity. (You should have seen the sheets this morning. It looked like I'd lost a baby in my sleep. Or at least like I was the victim in that Law & Order episode where the almost 41-year-old gay guy got sandpapered to death in his own bed.)
Anyway, until my new tat heals I have to keep it clean and slathered in some magic salve cryptically called A&D Ointment. And apparently it also needs air to heal, so I need to wear loose-sleeved short-sleeved shirts for the next few days.
And that's where we get to the gay part. Because while I have tons of short-sleeved shirts, apparently I don't have many loose-sleeved short-sleeved shirts. Big gay vain tight-shirted homo alert!
In any case, the tattoo looks pretty cool! It sits way lower on my arm than I'd hoped—I wanted it just to peek out of all my too-tight short-sleeved shirts—but the tattoo artist designed a custom Nordic-tribal shape that traces the thickest part of my triceps, which sits lower on my arm than all my tight little sleeves can reach. It's still red and oozy, but here's what my new ink looks like peeking out of one of the extremely rare and endangered baggy T-shirts in my Big Gay Vain Tight Shirt Collection:
And here's what it looks like all by itself. Notice how easily the baggy shirt sleeve rides up over my shoulder. What an amazing side benefit to this newfangled fashion invention!