Britney’s tits appear to be pointing in two completely different directions. So at least there’s something right about this tattoo.
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Britney’s tits appear to be pointing in two completely different directions. So at least there’s something right about this tattoo.
It seems pretty clear that “zombie” is poised to unseat “sexy” as the Halloween costume descriptor for 2009. Ten years ago we were all dressing as the sexy version of something for Halloween, like a sexy kitten, sexy vampire, or a sexy Boris Yeltsin (don’t tell me I was the only one). My prediction for this year is that we’ll see Zombie Lindsay Lohan (not really a stretch), Zombie Kate Gosselin, and Zombie Balloon Boy (don’t steal that one—it’s mine).
If this were about sexy tattoos, then perhaps deciding who to Shoot, Screw, or Marry would be easy (or perhaps not). But it’s about the walking dead. So choose carefully, because if horror films are any indication, zombies are pretty hard to get rid of. Especially when they’re tattooed into your skin.
Anyway, BRAAAAIIINNNSS (that’s zombie-language for “Here are today’s contenders”):
Ink Spotter: Karl
First we have Zombie Rambo. At least I think this is a zombie. Maybe that’s just what Stallone looked like in the last film?
Ink Spotter: Matthew
Zombie Michael Jackson. With wooden shoes. And a giant bulge in his pants.

Ink Spotter: Steven M
…and Abraham Lincoln: sixteenth President of the United States, the Great Emancipator, Zombie. Looks like the Gettysburg Address is going to need some revisions:
We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live.
What, no Zombie Keyboard Cat? You people have no respect.
I’m going to have to shoot Rambo, because he’s giving me post-traumatic stress disorder. I’ll definitely screw Lincoln, because I’m not going to pass up an opportunity to brag to my friends that I banged the Zombie Father of Our Country. Or wait, was he Old Rough and Zombie? Tippecazombie? Whatever. Anyway, I guess that leaves marrying The Zombie of Pop. Does that mean I’m the heir to Zombie Neverland Ranch?
Leave us your picks in the comments, and while you’re there, tell us what kind of zombie you’re dressing up as tomorrow!
Ink Spotter: Anon
Yo, look at me, and stick it!
[Ink, ink baby, ink, ink baby]
[Ink, ink baby, ink, ink baby]
Alright STOP, autoclave and stick it in
Ice in your calf ‘cause you need some attention
It’s one thing, to have a tat that unsightly
Why’d you have to get one of that whitey?
Will it come off? Yo, I don’t know
Put on long pants? I guess so.
To the extreme you take a joke—it’s a scandal
Should act your age and get ink I could handle
PANTS, you gotta put’em on soon
You’re killing my brain with this stupid-ass cartoon
FED ME a dumb line about irony
This crap should be lasered off in its entirety
Cover that portrait, it’s better that way
Or use it as a bulls-eye for the kids to play
This is a problem and yo, that’ll solve it
This ain’t the look and we need to dissolve it.
Word to your mother.

Ink Spotter: Christopher Z
Tupacatoo thought it would be better for the inscription to read “Keep ya head up,” but the Notorious B.I.R.D. usually gets his way.
Ink Spotter: Grete
Oh crap, you misspelled “no one.” Embarrassing. Thankfully, this one is an easy fix:
You’re welcome.
Ink Spotter: Anon
Especially pervasive trends are usually followed by a period of backlash. Disco exploded into mainstream popularity after Saturday Night Fever came out, annoying everyone to such a degree that, a mere two years later, they would completely fucking lose their shit.
During the backlash, everyone pretends they were never into the thing against which they are lashing back. I’m sure there were more than a few guys at Disco Demolition Night who a year earlier were doing the Hustle in roller skates with their polyester shirts unbuttoned to the navel. “I brought my Disco Duck record to blow up! What? No, I mean—it’s not mine. I, uh… My ex-girlfriend left it at my house. Yeah.”
Unfortunately, it’s kind of hard to pretend you weren’t there snorting lines off the light-up dance floor when you have “Shake Your Booty” tattooed across your back. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that this chick didn’t do a whole lot of flashing when she saw Primus at Woodstock ‘94.
Source: I’m Not Obsessed!
So it turns out there’s no minimum level of fame required in order to be immortalized in ink. Or, if there is, the threshold is somewhere below “Has banged Mandy Moore.”
Call me when it drops down to “Talks shit on the Internet.” I have a picture you can take with you to the parlor.
TOP COMMENT: “I think he could be called DJ PM now.” – Frankie
Ink Spotter: SallysOrrOw
I’ve reached a point where anytime I look at a tattoo and don’t know what it refers to, I presume it’s an Internet meme I missed. They’re standard issue now. “Chocolate rain” kid? Sure:
Ink Spotter: Danielle
2 Girls 1 Cup? Yup. I’m confident there are approximately 10,000 Dramatic Gopher* tattoos. And I’m sure there is a small cadre of people having zombie face tattoos applied with the sole intention of looking like the “I like turtles” kid.
So I no longer worry about what I’m looking at when I see an Irish-identified but red-white-and-blue–American infant-dog-angel-cartoon tattoo. I’m sure there’s a youtube video about it out there. With 3 million views.
*No, no link. If you haven’t seen the dramatic gopher, well, let me be the first to welcome you to the Internet.
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Ink Spotter: Jennie
Something about the expression on the tattoo worries me. It looks . . . lost. While she’s standing around in her bikini, I wonder if strangers will offer it directions to the bus station. And if anyone has ever started speaking to your lower back, unsolicited, let me tell you, it can be startling.

Submitted By: Caitlin H
So you walked in and asked for a tattoo of Nikki Sixx, but ended up with a tattoo of his pudgy, mildly autistic cousin Glenn. So what? Glenn likes to rock too. He’s going to see Night Ranger at the county fair next week.