Well...I never could have kits, so I guess I was neutered somewhere
along the line and nobody told me. Oh, the money I spent on birth
control before I figured it out! As for my, um, scent, I don't poof.
I'm a biter, though.

Having the tatt done was actually pretty funny. The "artiste" had to
put his finger directly behind my ear for each dot. He said that that
he could really feel the needle vibrating when he applied it and it
sort of freaked him out. He kept checking to see if he had tatted the
pad of his finger blue forever!

I feed Totally Ferret (wonderful stuff, the dog tries to steal it
whenever she can) not Marshall's, but I'm thinking they should give
me a discount. Minimally. Or a kit. Something for showing my devotion.
All but two of my fuzzies were MF's. Caff-Pow is a DeVore, and Sabrina
the Bat Biter was a Zen's. I love them all, wherever they are from.

Here is a true tatt story for your amusement........
**********************************************************

My mother was raised in a very uptight, well-off east coast WASP
family. Ladies did not get angry. Ladies knew how to set the table
properly, and always used the proper cutlery. Ladies went to private
schools. Ladies did not work, they volunteered. From my adult
perspective ladies were driven mad by this regimen, and all learned
to mix a mean Martini.

Ladies CERTAINLY did not get tattoos. Dames in prison got tattoos.
Biker chicks. Pole dancers. But not ladies. Ever.

Well, a few years back my younger sister Caroline, being of the right
age and of the right generation (I think she was 25) decided to get
herself a tattoo. She is a big rat fan, so is her friend Phoebe. They
decided to get tattoos together. It was a bonding thing, and I think a
coming of age statement. As in "we don't give a *amn what our mothers
want, anymore." Accordingly, they each got the word "rat" tattooed on
a shoulder blade in Chinese script. Looked very elegant, indeed. My
sister kept it covered around Mom and never breathed a word about it.
Mom continued on in blessed ignorance.

For a while. Eventually, my sister slipped. She and my Mom and my Mom's
sister and some friends were all lounging around in someone's pool on
a hot summer day. Caroline was, reasonably, in a bathing suit which of
course revealed...you-know-what. My mother saw it. Caroline was facing
away from her, and had completely forgotten about it. The next thing
she knew she was struck violently from behind on her shoulder and my
Mother screamed "CHUMP!!" followed by some more pummeling, and my
Mother wailing "WHERE DID I GO WRONG AS A MOTHER??!!" (I am not making
this up, it is an exact quote)There were more blows, and cries of
"CHUMP! CHUMP! CHUMP!"

Nobody *else* in the pool had *any* idea what twisted evil demon had
possessed my Mother, Exorcist style. (The sow is mine!) All they knew
was that my Mother had apparently lost her mind, and my poor sister
(*adult* sister) was cringing beneath the blows. Mom was literally
pulled off of and away from Caroline by baffled party guests.

Then, my Mother's sister Ellen saw the tatt. She, too, had been raised
to be a lady. Her keening wail of dismay rose in concert and added to
my Mother's, the two of them engaged in a complicated Wagnerian aria,
sort of like angry Valkyries on meth.

<http://www.blinkx.com/watch-video/wagner-ride-of-the-valkyries-furtwangler/Rygp6Ed8E54f9zTqM3CjJA>

Aunt Ellen:"Do you realize what you have DONE?
Mom:"CHUMP! CHUMP! CHUMP! 
Aunt Ellen:"What were you THINKING?" 
Mom:"You're a CHUMP!" (Thwap splash) 

Alexandra in MA 

[Posted in FML 6632]