Finding Nimmo

I have this mixed feeling about Tattoos. Tattoos, strategically located, half hidden, turn me on (and before anyone gets smarter, I meant on specimens of fairer sex). They are elusive, tantalizing things, which seem to lock my gaze in a Tractor beam. I manage to make intelligent conversation, but that’s about it, the eyes keep slipping to where the tattoo is located. So embarrassing…

Take for example someone having a tattoo of a butterfly which you can only see when one wears an open neck/wide neck tshirt or top. She knows its a butterfly, she’s told you, so you know its a butterfly, still you can not help but look. You have to see the full butterfly, you want to admire the design, the artwork (yeah, right) and though destined to be forever stationary, it makes your gaze wander. Such actions may potentially ruin any relationship you have with her, and if she’s a co-worker, it may spell trouble.

Emotion 1: Jim Carry in mask, when he sees Cameron Diaz dancing on “Love makes me treat you..” If you cant, here’s a reference pic

Yes, exactly, this is what men are mentally when they see an exotic babe (someone who gets a hidden tattoo is type exotic by default). Mind ventures into numerous possibilities, how far would someone go if they have had the guts to do a tattoo done. Barring mood swings (which a colleague had in Goa, and Goa sure brings out the wild side in people), to have a tattoo done, is having a permanent imprint on the body. That was what Enslavers did earlier, mark the body and make the mind submissive, destroy the will power, claim ownership and make princesses into pleasure girls

What was once misery, got taken up as fashion when enslavement ended. Tattoos became exotic, and to this date and future, will remain mark of someone who is not afraid to try out new things, to boldy go where no one gone before, someone who is guranteed to make your life adventurous.

So be it the temporary ones which Kareena Kapoor sports in Asoka, or permanent ones like those of Angelina Jolie and Jenna Jameson, tattoos are always a turn-on

Emotion 2: Where others have gone before…
After the initial rush, and that pumping of testosterone, comes the realization, that it is a permanent tattoo. Tattoo-ing takes time. A stranger, professional though he may be, held you for that time period, and the more exotic the location of tattoo, the more the feeling of giddyness I feel. How much was she wearing when the Tattoo was done, what was the position, was there an anesthetic?, was the Tattoo artist a male, or a female? How long did it take? Was she awake the whole time? How did it feel, that touch of a strangers hand (duh.. anesthetics), but still…

Its a strange arousing yet sinking feeling. Somehow I can not imagine the Tattoo artist having as clean minded intent as a Doctor.

Well, you can not have your cake and eat it too

Off track: We were in Goa, staying at Raman Cottages. (lovely place on Calangut beach, if you are deciding on a visit) These cottages have thickness of a single brick, which means you can totally hear when cottages around you even flush. Which also means, you are forced to eavesdrop on all types of conversations.

Fate smiled upon us and in the cottage back to where me and spiky were bunked up, there were 4 young females. One of them got tattoed (a temporary one) a scorpion, right where my friend has her butterfly, but clearly visible in the swimsuit. Little did I knew that the scorpion was only one of the tattoos, the other was… invisible ( * the mind wanders into what all a one piece sports-style swimsuit can hide *) All I got to hear was this:

Random Babe: You BITCH, you got a Tattoo done THERE too?

Tattood Babe: Yeah, don’t freak out, I wanted one HERE, but that would have been too bold, so I settled for one _HERE_.

Random Babe: You’re total … total… * goes out scandalized *

Now I could not see what HERE and THERE were, or what the second tattoo looked like, but imagination brings some happy memories.

Call me old fashioned, MCP or what not, I’d prefer Nimmo to not to have a tattoo