Ponderings from a Tattooed Joo
D. hit me up a few minutes ago. I like D. He's bright and he'll end up being rich some day. I'm glad he's my big brither. I aim to call him in about twenty years, poor and destitue, looking for enough money to cover my next crack fix. I mean, I'm a philosophy major. I'm not talented enough to do anything but stand on street corners and shit my pants on command. Please sir, won't you please give me some more knowledge?
The first time I had a real conversation with D., one that did not involve me, while drunk, begging him to shoot me with an air gun so that I could prove my manliness (or lack thereof), we talked about penny stocks. I've always been a bit fascinated with penny stocks. I mean, you can own parts of a company for only a few cents. Now, usually you don't get much return on these stocks, other than the experience of playing with the market (which can come in handy when you move up to dollar stocks, tens of dollar stocks, and bonds), but occasionally a company hits it big and moves from penny stocks to tens-of-dollar stocks and brings you along for the ride. Amazon.com (or was it e-bay?), I believe, was first a penny-stock.
D. invests in penny stocks. Now, tell me, isn't that a guy who's got his eyes on his wallet? And, bro, you wouldn't let a little brother down by not giving him his crack money? I know I can count on you in twenty years. I'll apologize in advance for the smell. Crapping your pants on command is really a good way to garner some sympathy pennies.
Anyway, D. and I were talking about tattoos. We're both Jews, which means we're somewhat closer to perfection than most people. D. wants a tattoo, but his family, as well as most Jews, frown on beautiful body art because a few million of us were forcefully tattooed half a century ago. Now, I understand that the bitterness and the anguish of the Holocaust lingers in the minds of our people, but I do not understand the logic that transfers some of that hatred to tattoos.
Let's dissect the logic offered by our elders.
Premise 1. Our people were forcefully tattoed by the Nazis.
Premise 2. Many of these people were killed
Premise 3. Anything the Nazis did to us is bad.
Conclusion. Tattoos are bad and getting them is disrespectful to those who were forcefully tattooed.
I see a few errors with how this is thought out. The Nazis did more than tattoo us. They also forced us to build things. We built cars, munitions, cities, garments, and whatever the Germans needed. If tattoos are bad because the Nazis forced us to have them, then why don't we have qualms about driving Volkswagons, BMWs, or listening to nifty German bands such as Kraftwerk or Rammestein?
I can imagine my grandfather screaming at me:
"Jon! The blood of your people made that beautiful BMW Z4! Why can't you drive a Lincoln Towncar like any sensible Jew?"
"Grand-dad. It's a Z4"
"I don't care. Your auntie drives a Volkswagon Beetle. You should be more like her."
"But, Grand-dad, Hitler practically invented the Volkswagon."
"Oy vey, you schlemiel. Don't argue with me. Mensch."
Yeah. Don't argue with old Jews. They're as illogical and impractical as most women.
But, in any case, I have five tattoos. What're they going to do, other than bitch at me?
-------
Dream Man is tonight. For those of you not in the know, Dream Man is basically a glorified Manslut show. Either the fraternities submit their best looking speciman, or the sororities pick the best speciman from each frat, and parade him, half-naked, around a stage while girls and guys hoot.
SigEp, as usual, has the best looking guys, and the best looking Dream Man. I'm looking to get laid by affiliation?
"Yeah, you know that blond, blue-eyed aryan dude from SigEp? He was in my pledge class."
"Ohmigod he is so fucking cuuuuuuute!"
"Yeah. Um. Can I have a blow-job now? You can pretend you're giving it to him."
The first time I had a real conversation with D., one that did not involve me, while drunk, begging him to shoot me with an air gun so that I could prove my manliness (or lack thereof), we talked about penny stocks. I've always been a bit fascinated with penny stocks. I mean, you can own parts of a company for only a few cents. Now, usually you don't get much return on these stocks, other than the experience of playing with the market (which can come in handy when you move up to dollar stocks, tens of dollar stocks, and bonds), but occasionally a company hits it big and moves from penny stocks to tens-of-dollar stocks and brings you along for the ride. Amazon.com (or was it e-bay?), I believe, was first a penny-stock.
D. invests in penny stocks. Now, tell me, isn't that a guy who's got his eyes on his wallet? And, bro, you wouldn't let a little brother down by not giving him his crack money? I know I can count on you in twenty years. I'll apologize in advance for the smell. Crapping your pants on command is really a good way to garner some sympathy pennies.
Anyway, D. and I were talking about tattoos. We're both Jews, which means we're somewhat closer to perfection than most people. D. wants a tattoo, but his family, as well as most Jews, frown on beautiful body art because a few million of us were forcefully tattooed half a century ago. Now, I understand that the bitterness and the anguish of the Holocaust lingers in the minds of our people, but I do not understand the logic that transfers some of that hatred to tattoos.
Let's dissect the logic offered by our elders.
Premise 1. Our people were forcefully tattoed by the Nazis.
Premise 2. Many of these people were killed
Premise 3. Anything the Nazis did to us is bad.
Conclusion. Tattoos are bad and getting them is disrespectful to those who were forcefully tattooed.
I see a few errors with how this is thought out. The Nazis did more than tattoo us. They also forced us to build things. We built cars, munitions, cities, garments, and whatever the Germans needed. If tattoos are bad because the Nazis forced us to have them, then why don't we have qualms about driving Volkswagons, BMWs, or listening to nifty German bands such as Kraftwerk or Rammestein?
I can imagine my grandfather screaming at me:
"Jon! The blood of your people made that beautiful BMW Z4! Why can't you drive a Lincoln Towncar like any sensible Jew?"
"Grand-dad. It's a Z4"
"I don't care. Your auntie drives a Volkswagon Beetle. You should be more like her."
"But, Grand-dad, Hitler practically invented the Volkswagon."
"Oy vey, you schlemiel. Don't argue with me. Mensch."
Yeah. Don't argue with old Jews. They're as illogical and impractical as most women.
But, in any case, I have five tattoos. What're they going to do, other than bitch at me?
-------
Dream Man is tonight. For those of you not in the know, Dream Man is basically a glorified Manslut show. Either the fraternities submit their best looking speciman, or the sororities pick the best speciman from each frat, and parade him, half-naked, around a stage while girls and guys hoot.
SigEp, as usual, has the best looking guys, and the best looking Dream Man. I'm looking to get laid by affiliation?
"Yeah, you know that blond, blue-eyed aryan dude from SigEp? He was in my pledge class."
"Ohmigod he is so fucking cuuuuuuute!"
"Yeah. Um. Can I have a blow-job now? You can pretend you're giving it to him."
posted by Jon at 2:33 PM
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