Starting something you couldn't finish
Finnbar says: I used to know a guy who tattooed LOVE across his left knuckles, but didn't tattoo HATE on the other knuckles because he was right-handed and realised he couldn't finish. Ever run out of skills or inspiration halfway through a job?
( , Thu 24 Jun 2010, 13:32)
Finnbar says: I used to know a guy who tattooed LOVE across his left knuckles, but didn't tattoo HATE on the other knuckles because he was right-handed and realised he couldn't finish. Ever run out of skills or inspiration halfway through a job?
( , Thu 24 Jun 2010, 13:32)
« Go Back | See The Full Thread
I think it was going to go like this:
The expression of mischevious joy which had previously claimed her features instantly fell away as I pointed it out, and suggested - as gently as I was able - that it looked very much like advanced, early-onset ocular melanoma. Within three weeks, the specialist had taken her eyes - but it was too late; it had metastasized into her kidneys, and she was given six months to live. She lasted four.
Her friend didn't long survive her. Wracked with feelings of guilt and self-loathing, the bottle of vodka we'd drank that night turned into two, then three; it wasn't long until she was 'regretfully let go' from her place of work - the recession, they said, but everyone knew the truth. I never saw much of her, after that; as I understand it, she drifted into crime and prostitution during her final months - the demons had taken her, demanding she abandon all pride and morality in pursuit of the addiction which would take her life.
And me? I never, ever played Truth or Dare again.
( , Tue 29 Jun 2010, 16:09, 3 replies)
The expression of mischevious joy which had previously claimed her features instantly fell away as I pointed it out, and suggested - as gently as I was able - that it looked very much like advanced, early-onset ocular melanoma. Within three weeks, the specialist had taken her eyes - but it was too late; it had metastasized into her kidneys, and she was given six months to live. She lasted four.
Her friend didn't long survive her. Wracked with feelings of guilt and self-loathing, the bottle of vodka we'd drank that night turned into two, then three; it wasn't long until she was 'regretfully let go' from her place of work - the recession, they said, but everyone knew the truth. I never saw much of her, after that; as I understand it, she drifted into crime and prostitution during her final months - the demons had taken her, demanding she abandon all pride and morality in pursuit of the addiction which would take her life.
And me? I never, ever played Truth or Dare again.
( , Tue 29 Jun 2010, 16:09, 3 replies)
« Go Back | See The Full Thread