Posts Tagged ‘pain’

Stingers

Posted: 03/03/2011 in Random
Tags: , , , , , ,

Growing up in South Africa we used to play a game called Stingers.

 The way the it worked was there were maybe 5 or six players, one of the players had a ball of some kind, normally a tennis ball. And the object was obviously to run after the other players and try throw the ball as hard as they could to inflict the most amount of pain,  whoever got “stung” last had the rights to the ball and then became the “stinger”.

There was  no rules in this  kind of setup. You could throw as hard as you wanted and as close as you wanted. Many a tear was shed during these games of true gladiators. This how I shed my tears….

During a highly competitive game I had the ball, my calf was raised and bruised from a killer throw via my brother Nic.I was hunting him down to act on my impulse of revenge. I was seeing red! Walking in a sly, stealthy manner with my new gangster limp(thanks Nic), I saw my target.

It was perfect, I couldn’t have dreamed of a better trap. My sexy neighbour (female, fools!) had come into our garden and was speaking to Nic. He had thought we had called a timeout or something.

I lined up my sights, I was about 4 meters away from him and his back was presented like a summer calls for the rain. I slowed my breathing. Three, Two, One! I threw with all my might. In my mind I could already hearing him screaming in surprise and pain. I was smiling like the sick bastard I am.

I went blind! My head recoiled and a sharp pain filled my head. AAAhhh my eye, my fucking eye. I had miscalculated my shot, I had thrown the ball directly into the wall, it had rebounded and Muphy’s law, struck me in the eye.

I was howling pain, and all I could hear was my brother laughing in the background, Bastard! 

"Stupid Guy"

Latest Ink

Posted: 03/12/2010 in Random
Tags: , , , , ,

Well, I have finally mustered up enough strength and intelligence to post something. This vacation back home has been somewhat hard, difficult and strength sapping.

While on my rest period I went had some more ink done, now bear in mind I have alot so one would think that I would have grown used to the pain. BOY, was I wrong!

I already had a tribal outline on my outer arm/ bicep area and decided that it was time to finish that portion up. I went to a guy that my sister recommended and all was good. The first sitting was not too bad, section off the tattoo and add all the extra black and outlines. I waited for that to heal which took about 10 days or so and went back for the rest.

In those 10 days of resting I had a couple heavy nights which included large amounts of excesses so I WASN’T feeling that good. Yeah I reckon a good month of no consumption of anything besides water and fruits could have helped, anyway I went there already feeling some what worse for wear.

I was pretty excited to finally get this  outline completed after three years of waiting. We started at 10am and continued to 3pm with only 4×5 minute breaks for me to try calm my hunger pangs. Yes I’m a doos! I had forgotten to eat breakfast and people were pouring into the shop because I had used my appointment time already. No time to eat. Must finish now.

While getting tattooed we had some interesting conversations, religion of all types, the meaning of life, life in SA and abroad all to the drone of some really hardcore death metal. I got a couple titles of some good books which are apparently must reads, thanks to Pat the tattooist.

Back to the pain, for those of you who don’t know, shading for me is the worst part of tattoos. Example, if you have two colours shading into each other that mean the skin has to get tattooed twice over the same area. Shading needle’s have 5 or 6 needles instead of the outline needle which has one. Once with primary colour and again with the secondary colour. Mine was black and red.  As time was passing I was getting silent, more silent, more more silent (if that’s even possible) and completely oblivious to anything around me except the pain.

After what seemed like a lifetime of pain and suffering it was finished. I promised myself next time I would never ever get so much done in one sitting and went home feeling faint, sickly and proud. But why lie to myself I know deep down inside that I will do the same thing next time. That’s what getting a tattoo is all about!