Back in the day Copenhagen was the tattoo capital of Scandinavia. In the wee-early 19th century newly-laid-drunk-out-of-their-minds sailors would let usually just as drunk Danish tattooists add an eagle or an anchor to whatever ink-entourage they had begun assembling through ports in New York, Hamburg, the far east, and so on. Read more »
Ki hal chelay, pyari lerki? They’re kind of hard to handle during a heat wave but when it’s really cold and rainy out there’s nothing like a big-titted fatso to get under the covers with. It’s like eating a big meal after you’ve been chopping wood all day.
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Those rich cocksuckers who call themselves “artists” simply because they tell an army of contractors to actualize a retarded whim are hard to take, but is anything worse than the starving ones? At least Ethiopians die before they get old.
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