Seriously, guys: If you’re wack enough to put a tattoo of some so-called rock star all over your entire back…could you at least make sure it’s a star of higher caliber than Adam freaking Duritz?! Have we no standards left?
I mean, honestly, if you’re not afraid of scaring children on the beach with the vision of Adam’s bloated, disembodied, dreadlocked head floating away from them every time you turn your back…you might as well just go whole hog and take a page out of Steve-O’s book:
But at least Steve-O’s is intended to garner laughs, whereas yours will all be accidental. See the difference?
Let’s be clear: You’re allowed to like Counting Crows. You’re allowed to buy all of their CDs, and listen to them as often as you want. You can wear their t-shirts, and put their posters up in your bedroom, and spend all of your spare cash on tickets to watch them in concert. You can even believe, deep down inside, that Adam Duritz is a hip, cool, deeply attractive man. You’re just not advised to ink his face all over your latissimus dorsi. Got it?
Okay, then. No more needles for you, mister! Friends don’t let friends desecrate their bodies with images of whiny, faded 90’s alt-rock artists…no matter how much you might want the orderlies giving you that sponge bath in the nursing home forty years from now to wonder why you put a giant Troll doll in the middle of your back.
It’s just not worth it. Trust us on this.
