Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come. That wonderful time of year when I decide on getting yet another tattoo. Only this time, it’ll be a double whammy. Here’s the story.
Sailors, as you may or may not know, are highly superstitious beings. Also, the majority of hardcore-nautical men get tattoos as a souvenir of sort, to show where they’ve been. This combination of superstitious badassness has lead to a variety of typical sailor tattoos that we see today. A common example is the anchor, which signifies stability.
Anyway, the tattoos I wanna get are a small pig on top of one foot (like just under my last two toes) and a small rooster on the other. The myth behind the pig and the rooster is a little vague, and there are a lot of variations and twists to the symbolism behind them. One explanation is that both of these barnyard creatures despise the water and will therefore help a capsized sailor swim quickly to shore by carrying each of his feet and not sinking too far into the depths of the ocean. Another tale involves a huge shipwreck, and everyone died except this one smart dude who grabbed hold of one of the cargo crates that was floating nearby. Eventually, he drifted to shore, and after a while, so did a lot more boxes. Upon opening them, he found that some of the crates housed pigs, and the others contained roosters, and they were the only things that didn’t sink into the sea. So when he explored the island to look for other people and shelter and shit, he found this native guy and told him the story (in exaggerated hand gestures) and the native as a token of luck, tattooed a pig onto one of his feet and a rooster on the other.
Regardless of how the story goes, the bottom line is always the same: in sailor superstition, tattooing a pig and a rooster on each foot will prevent you from drowning. Now I know you’re asking yourself if I’m on crack because I’m 1.) not a sailor and 2.) fully capable of swimming, so why would I consider permanently inking two random (yet delicious) farm animals onto my feet? The answer is simple. July 27th marks the end of a full year’s worth of slavery at Jumeirah. And in that time, not one person drowned under my watch. And in honour of surviving a hellish year and saving others from the water’s death grip, I will get my fucken sailor tattoos. Because it’s fitting. And they will be cute. And Jumeirah has consumed an entire year of my life, and I feel I must pay respect by honouring It with some form of permanent tribute. And I mean, I’m not retarded, like, I’m not going to ink the Jumeirah logo onto my cheek or something. So I think this is the best option.
In other news, while we’re still on the topic of tattoos, Aaron just asked me to help him come up with another design for his forearm and I’m pretty excited for it. Because the idea I have in my head is wicked, I just need to find time to get it down on paper. And when that happens, I’ll share with you the final version.
From the wonderful brain of Ona 