New rule: When you get an A Christmas Story tattoo, slightly re-imagined as an old-school piece (with a flash-y banner, at least), you get to be on ModBlog. Doesn’t matter what season it is, not even a little. And if you disagree? Take it up with Ralphie there, who has been instructed to fire at will.

(Tattoo by Jason Gone, who’s on the road and currently in Cincinnati, Ohio.)

And that, my lovely friends, is how this week ends. How did we spend our time together?

- I’ll have whatever she’s having.

- Hey, a pretty pierced corset done up as formal-wear! Good stuff.

- We made fun of a stupid fake trend.

- All cephalopods, all the time, forever, amen.

- Surprise! It’s not a dick.

- And here is a corset that would probably be frowned on as formal-wear.

- High-fives all around.

As per usual, we’ll be around here and there over the weekend, but Monday morning is when we really gas up the jet and get this thing going again. Until then, have fun out there, stay safe and, of course, thank you for your continued support of BME.

So, you want a tattoo celebrating one of your favorite movies, but one that alludes to other artists as well? What to do?

I really wanted a Star Wars tribute tattoo, and my artist really wanted to do one. I didn’t want anything overused or anything, like the insignia or a lightsaber, and I didn’t want a huge scene with ships and everything, so we decided to kind of create something. I liked the shape of the AT-AT walkers, but they were kind of beefy. I was thinking I wanted something more slender, like a Dali elephant, and here it is! I’m so happy with how it turned out, and I’m really glad to have something completely original on my body.

On this Friday the 13th, let us reflect on what we’ve learned from horror movies: You cannot kill Jason—you can only make him angrier. You can send him to New York, you can send him to Hell or you can send him to outer goddamn space…doesn’t matter. You’re just pissing him off. Perhaps it’s time to resign yourself to the fate that awaits you: no matter what you try to do, you are going to be killed by a psychotic hell-demon in a hockey mask, and tough shit.

(Tattoo by Billy Toller at Cherry Bomb Tattoos from New Port Richey, Florida, and the 2009 Philadelphia Tattoo Arts Convention.)

Well, quite a whirlwind of a week this time around, no? Let’s refresh our memories:

- We spoke with Mike Beer, he of the numerous wholly tasteless tattoos. Reactions, as usual, were mixed at best. Evidently, not everyone is ready for “rape time.”

- Atlanta kisses some ass (in the form of a tribute tattoo) to get an apprenticeship with Sean Philips. Mercifully, it worked.

- There is a damn eyeball in that guy’s armpit!

- We all told some great stories about getting our septums pierced.

- The Flying Pink Sausage entered our lives.

- We learned a simple lesson: Money talks and bullshit walks.

- Alice got naked in the snow, just because.

- Nacho’s first suspension was a complete success.

And that’s it for us today, folks. We’ll be around over the weekend though, as per usual. Sorry about no podcast this week—there were some scheduling conflicts with one great guest we had lined up, but we should be getting in touch with him in the next couple of days, so don’t you worry. At any rate, stay safe, have a good weekend, and as always, thank you for your continued support of BME.

If the heartwarming ending of Shaun of the Dead taught us anything (and I know I take the majority of my cues in life from British comedies), it’s that being a zombie isn’t necessarily the worst fate one can expect. Sure, you’re a mindless hell-beast whose soul quest is to feast on the flesh of the living, but at least you get to hang out with your friends and play video games, right? Right? Anybody? Sigh.

That’d be Eric sporting this fantastic Better Off Dead-inspired tattoo by Noelle Lamonica at Divine Machine Tattoo in Buffalo, New York.

Context for the uninitiated, after the jump.