Think physics when getting a tattoo

Yes peeps, I got myself that tattoo that I’ve been thinking about for years. It was quite an experience albeit the actual tattooing portion took just slightly more than an hour.

You see, there is a lot of preparatory work. Fact checking the quote, spell check (trust me, you will want more than one person to check this!), printing several samples for comparison, siting the stencil, cleaning, shaving, the list goes on. Wait, and there is physics and mathematics thrown in for good measure.

Having a row of text tattooed on either the back or a big surface is a slightly easier exercise. Having it done on the forearm, that requires some knowledge of physics. Why so? Look at the wrist; its proportionately narrower than the middle of the forearm and the elbow joint, although the elbow joint is just a tad wider.

Here comes …. perception of size by the human eye. Remember that illusion of a house with the same person standing on opposite ends yet looking huge on one side, and real tiny at the other end? This can happen when you place text on the forearm. Let’s take a look.

“Only God Can Judge Me”. ‘Only’ will be located near the elbow joint while ‘Me’, at the wrist. Now using a uniform typeface size and placing the row of text on the forearm, one notices that the word ‘Me’ appears disproportionately larger than the rest of the tattoo. In  fact, ‘Only’ appears a little too small. The whole row appears …… disproportionate!

Therefore, to avoid a perception error, one may need to employ a deliberate design error in the sizes of the typeface across the length of text to achieve a balanced look. So we shrank the entire word ‘Me’ and enlarged the letter ‘O’. Voila! Balance and perceptual uniformity was achieved.

Now aren’t I glad someone paid attention in class?

My thanks for the tattoo work done by Wendy of Primitive Art Piercing & Tattoo, Singapore located at Far East Plaza. They are fully booked for even piercing work (yup they are good, I got all my piercings done there too) so if you want something done, give them a call first! Never pushy, always friendly.

“Good tattoos aren’t cheap, & cheap tattoos aren’t good!”

The day I lost to a man in tights

So you know, you’re working out at the gym, grimacing and so full of concentration; as is almost everyone else is. Then along comes this group of gym ‘tryouts’. You know them, free use of the club at off-peak hours for a week. Bring along a buddy, a spouse, hell bring two of them if you could. So like I said, along comes a party of three, all musketeers and with all the gear and getup: water bottle, towel, amazing track shoes, brand new tight fitting tops, tights ( I did say musketeer). All eyes were on the 3 boys, well, a boy and two men in my opinion. All eyes were trained on them. All eyes, specifically trained on those pair of tights.

It should be amusing, I did try to write this with a bit of humour initially, but the fact was, it was damning. Disconcerted, I tried to get back to my set. And there, that pair of tights just walked right in front of me. Owner looking for a pair of dumbbells, good … bending …. tights are bending …. owner picking up said dumbbells. Stretching …. tights are stretching ….. and there! One set done!

THE DAY I LOST MY CONCENTRATION

It was back then in Bangkok, at the NYE party event and Tony Moran was to be spinning. I’ve been working and partying in tandem for a number of years then. Always arranging my work schedule and travels to coincide as best I could with whatever circuit event was in Asia. I kid you not, I was there, at every single one of them.

And this time was no different, making my rounds to greet friends, acquaintances and what not. ‘What not’ being a lot of things, a lot more so then I can say for friends and acquaintances. I consider myself fortunate; I had friends, a small circle of close friends, and just a handful of people whom I trust completely. The world was a large playground, made small by modern technology, and even smaller still by people whom I trust, and who trust me likewise.

This night was to be different. I chanced upon a friend from Kuala Lumpur (KL), Malaysia. He was always in most circuit events, and he has always, to this day worn the same genre of party getup; give or take a few accessories that have come and gone, such as handheld lasers (oh … the history!), whistles, baseball caps, bracelets, chains, belts and the such. Hand-in-hand with him was one of the cutest boys I have ever seen. Bar none. The only other who has this same effect on me I had never seen in person. Because that was from a photo. By the time I knew Samuel personally, he was already a hulking man. This was SOMETHING. I couldn’t get my eyes off him. We were introduced and I had to summon all the concentration I could muster to not keep my eyes on him. And he hadn’t even opened his mouth. I was dropped a hint that the boy was on some substance. I was a little curious. Does this mean he won’t remember a thing? And why was he holding my hand and not letting go.

THE DAY THE GROUND SAID HELLO TO ME

Well, time as we all know, runs the show here. Just three days ago, I was warded for the recurrence of stomach ulcers. I spent half the day from noon onwards in a lot of pain. Pale-faced, grasping my chest and in cold sweat, I collapsed and well you know, I’m not exactly petite. The man in front of me literally yelped and jumped out of the way …. out of my way. Haha … Helloooooo floor!

Now, fast forward a little bit. Stop looking at the photo above. Yes, I know, she’s heading for the floor. Yes, I can see the frightful look of the people in her path. No, I’m not certain if she used deodorant that night. No, I’m not aware of the area code for those thighs alone. Now … I got back home, more meds to take, more things I could now not eat. What could be worse? Oh great, doggy poop on the balcony. Awesome, just wonderful.

“BANZAI …….!!!!!”