Vader, baby this one is for you.
For years I had talked trash about getting a tattoo on my johnson. One night I went so far as to track down a female artist (ain't no way a man is touching my dick). I called the tattoo shop to get prices. The girl that answered the phone had a sweet little girl voice and was named Candy, it already sounded promising.
Trashman: "How much would it cost me to get a tattoo on my crank."
Candy: "On your what?"
Trashman: "My crank, my cob, my willy, my johnson, my dick."
Candy: "Oh you want a tattoo on your penis?"
Trashman: "Is that the medical term?"
Candy: "The price would be $150.00 handling charge and then the tattoo price would depend on the size of the tattoo."
Trashman: "I'm a white guy, so you don't have much to work with."
Candy: "What did you want tattooed on your penis?"
Trashman: "A lightning bolt."
Candy: "I can do that. What is the significance of the lightning bolt?"
Trashman: "Lightning never strikes the same place twice or I cum in a flash. Take your pick."
Candy: "You realize it's going to be painful?"
Trashman: "I plan on fainting right before you start, with any luck I won't feel a thing."
Candy: "When would you like to make the appointment?"
Trashman: "How about tomorrow?"
The time was set. The next day I was at The Saints shop talking shit about getting my dick tattooed. I don't think I had any intention of making the appointment. That is until The Saint called my bluff.
The Saint: "You see that dry erase board?"
The Saint: "This afternoon it's either going to say, Trashman is the mother fucking man or Trashman is a big wet pussy. Your choice.
I walked out the door and drove straight to the tattoo parlor. I was ready to meet the sweet voiced Candy. My dick was about to be handled by a strange woman with a name and voice that just dripped sugar. I walked into the parlor and found a rather unpleasant looking woman sitting there. Her upper body was fine but her ass was as big as a Buick and square like one too. She had on coke bottle glasses, and her straw like hair was pulled back in a pony tail. This woman was ugly.
Trashman: "I have an appointment with Candy."
Ugly (in that voice): "You must be Trashman."
Trashman (thinking "please God don't let it be her"): "Yeah. Is Candy in?"
Ugly: "I'm Candy."
Trashman (fuck, fuck, fuck): "OK. Nice to meet you. Lets get this done."
I figured at least there was no chance of me getting a hard on and I better be nice because this beast was going to have my dick in her hand. No way was I going back to the shop without this tattoo. I laid on the table and Candy went to work. Now let me tell you, for the most part it was quite painful but at times she hit spots with that needle that were wonderfully euphoric. First pain then pleasure, back and forth. I didn't know whether to punch her or kiss her. Then I would look at that face and know instantly kissing her was out of the question. Candy finished the tattoo after a couple of hours. During this time we got to know each other. Turns out she was probably the nicest person I ever met and not just because she had my manhood in her hands. She regularly takes kids off the streets and puts them back in school, then she helps them find a job and a house. She has been doing this for years. Personality in an ugly woman will work to her advantage sometimes. But I'm sorry to say, no matter how much personality Candy had or how nice she was there was just no getting past that much ugly. Damn shame. That voice, that name, that sweetness, that personality, and THAT face.
Getting off the table and moving around was surprisingly pain free. It was like nothing had happened. Just so you know that tattoo required two pints of ink.
Candy: "All done."
Trashman: "Thank God."
Candy: "You know you can't have sexual relations for six weeks, right?"
Trashman: "Huh? You mean no fucking."
Candy: "Yep and no oral either."
Trashman: "I can't even get a blowjob."
Candy: "You are really crass aren't you?"
Trashman: "I don't know what that means."
Trashman (smiling): "Oh yeah that's me."
I left the parlor and went to see Kelli. She loved the tattoo so much she just had to taste it. Who was I to stop her. Candy must have been kidding about the no sex stuff, it was even better than before. I left Kelli's and went to The Saints shop, I walked straight to the board, took the marker and wrote in huge letters TRASHMAN IS THE MOTHER FUCKING MAN.
The Saint: "You're one twisted mother fucker."
Trashman: "You need proof?"
The Saint: "Fuck no. I don't want to see your dick."
Trashman: "I wasn't going to show you my dick. Call Kelli, she just kissed the lightning."
The Saint: "You know you're going to pay for that."
Trashman: "Bullshit. I don't feel a thing."
That night my dick swelled up to the size of a large watermelon. I could feel my heartbeat in it. Walking was out of the question. The Saint got me ice bags and towels so I could sit and play cards. What a great guy.
A couple of weeks later I was hanging out with JJ (my two legged pit bull).
JJ: " You really got it tattooed."
Trashman: "Wanna see?"
JJ: "Fuck no I don't want to see your dick."
JJ: "Did she shave you?"
JJ: "Did she use vaseline."
JJ: " How long did she hang on to it?"
Trashman: " About two hours."
JJ: " Did you get a hard on?"
JJ: "She shaved you, smeared you down with vaseline, and fondled you for two hours and you didn't get a hard on? Bullshit."
Trashman: "Get in the truck."
We drove to the tattoo parlor. On the way there I told JJ to be nice when we got there. He asked "Why?" and I just said "You'll see". We walked in and no one was in front. We went to the back of the parlor and Candy was working on some drawings. As we approached she looked up.
Trashman: "I want you to meet a friend of mine. He's thinking about getting a tattoo."
Trashman: "JJ I want you to meet Candy."
All he could say was. "Oh."