Leave Things The Way You Found Them


Hoo boy, this guy? This guy is just a mountain of a man. You know all the stories that have been alternately told throughout the years about Bill Brasky/Vin Diesel/Chuck Norris/Angela Lansbury/etc.? Every time those various feats of strength and hilarity were told, the storyteller was thinking about this man. True story.

(Tattoos by Jan, Igor and Kaska at Fur Immer Tattoo in Berlin and Classic Ink and Mods in Amsterdam; body hammered out by Hephaestus himself.)

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Fall Into the Pot


See, you see a photo like this one of Largo and his new friend, and you wonder, was it staged? Did he fall asleep on the beach and wake up with this pinchy little bastard holding on for dear life? Did he lose a bet? Is it just part of the jewelry he’s wearing? Is there a fire burning? Did he bring any lemon slices? Is there rice in the truck? Is th— oh, sorry. I’ll be at Red Lobster if anyone needs me.

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This Is Why We Have A “DongBlog” Tag


I really don’t have a whole lot to add here: These are some of the greatest photos that have crossed my desk(top) in quite some time. Phil said they reminded him of an epic battle between creatures in a Japanese monster movie (Rodzilla vs. Ghidongra?), and I have to say, that’s a pretty astute observation. Hey, we like to have fun around here, and this—featuring a full bisection and another ostensibly on the way—is one hell of a fun photo set. We’ve got a few more after the jump, and there’s a gigantic gallery if you want to mosey on over to BME/hard.

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The Milk’s Gone Bad


“But why?” you ask. “Why would someone get a tattoo of a palm tree built out of a hilarious dick and balls?” Who knows? Maybe the wearer is from the islands—nude islands. Maybe she asked for three simple stars to be tattooed, then fell asleep and woke up with this. Maybe it’s some sort of dick-in-palm masturbation joke, of which I would approve entirely. The truth is, we may never know why. But, there is a question we can answer: Not why a person would get this tattoo, but where? The answer, my friends, is beyond the click-through.

(Tattoo by Lazlow at Altered Images in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.)

Renew Thy Force


And here, straight from wintry Siberian Novosibirsk, Russia, comes a handsome young gent (with his lobes stretched to an impressive 60 mm.) and his terrifying nightmare doll. Sure, he says it’s part of a “performance” of some kind, and maybe he deserves the benefit of the doubt, but the second that thing shows up in my dreams and tries to devour my soul (only a matter of time, really), I swear to God I am driving to Russia and throwing that creature in the fire pit.

Till You Drop


Good day, folks! Another holiday weekend has come and gone, and now we will be at work for the rest of our lives. Hooray. Anyway, what better way to kick off a period of Sisyphean drudgery than with our lovely asymmetrical friend up there? We’ve admired her off-balance work (and 26 mm. lobes, of course) by Efix at D-Markation in the past, and now here she is all fancied up, ostensibly for prom night. And hey, who doesn’t like a purple dress? Another shot, of course, after the jump.

It’s Monday, ModBloggers. I only do these things to freak you out.

Pin Hope On This Promise


Good day, fair ModBloggers! Hope the weekend finds you all well. Before you celebrate your country by blowing up a small part of it this evening, take a look at this intense stomach flesh-removal piece on Travis by Dan Marshall while guest-spotting at Studio 13 in Bowmanville, Ontario. After the jump, a few more shots of the procedure (including one a few weeks into the healing process).

Here we have Dan and Travis, horsing around with some sort of medieval death blade. “Please take note of the sweet-ass Soviet tank goggles,” Dan says in between vicious stabs.

And this is the piece about a month and a half into the healing process. There are obviously some slight textural inconsistencies, but, as we’ve seen in the past, six weeks or so is hardly enough time to tell exactly how a scar will end up. We’re definitely looking forward to seeing how these progress!

This Week in BME


What, you didn’t think I’d go the whole day without giving y’all a Casual Friday picture, did you? And really, what better way to head into the long weekend than with Cameron, a true American if there ever was one. He’s a simple man who lives by a simple code, who enjoys simple pleasures: He likes his beer cold, his T.V. loud, and his testicles a-danglin’. Click through to de-Bud, of course.

And that’ll be that, kids. What went down this week?

Andy covered his wang, tilted his chin and showed us his vertical lowbrets.

BME is having a sexy sex toy sale, and Katy got so excited that she ended up covered in blood somehow.

Paul Booth won’t let Meghan McCain jump the line. Ha ha.

Marina checked in with another gorgeous large-scale piece.

Our unabashed hipster post is at well over 100 comments and counting. I have no absolutely no idea what will spur an emotional reaction from our readers, apparently.

If you can, please help Matt Brawley and CoRE.

And there you have it! I’ll poke my head in over the weekend, and then we’ll fire this bitch back up on Monday morning. Until then, ModBloggers, enjoy yourselves, stay safe (unless you’re firing off an M80 in my honor, in which case please be as reckless as possible) and, as always, thank you for your continued support of BME.

Full Coverage: Links From All Over (July 3, 2009)


[Kijiji] I’m warning you all right now, this is going to be an extra-stupid edition of our beloved news roundup. Like, seriously. There is nary a redeeming quality to be found among today’s record of idiocy, whether it’s the subjects of the stories or the fact that the stories themselves even exist in the first place. Let’s start with this Kijiji posting, beckoning one and all to contribute to this citizen’s tattoo portfolio by submitting to a full-facial tattoo. It is very important that this person pad his or her portfolio with a very impressive full-facial tattoo—so important, in fact, that it will be done nearly practically free! As long as you don’t want any tribal, of course. Tribal is for assholes.

[Help Me Sue] Oh Jesus Christ, if you are eating your celebratory (and mandatory, damn it) Independence Day fried chicken, you may want to put it down (or eat it extremely quickly) before clicking that link. First of all, there is actually a web site called “Help Me Sue,” which is just tremendous, and it evidently exists to help people wronged by The Man (or various men) find a lawyer appropriate for one’s respective situation. Well, someone is having some problems with a tattoo, from the looks of things (all [sic]‘d):

Myself and two other co-workers went to a new local tattoo parlor in Morgan Hill, California. We all got the same tattoo and we all got bad infections. Within the two days our ankles swelled three times the size and was oozing all the color and green stuff. We let it ride because we understood that the foot area was very painful in regards to healing. We went back to the tat shop to find the owner and his wife and showed him our feet. His first response was “Oh shit, he went way too deep, that artist is out of here. Don’t worry, he won’t be back!” At that point we told him that we were pissed and we were going to seek medical attention because our legs had became so sore that we had to miss work and the crust from our tattoo kept cracking and seaping. My friend was the first to go seek medical advice then myself. It was confirmed that it appeared we both had Staf infections and were given antibiotics for severl weeks. The artist finally cared enough to contact us and even admitted he may have went to deep and that he would only refund our money and fix it. He then told us that we would fix it at the shop where we got it beacuse he still worked there! We then decided to run in their business lic because they had one on the wall in the shop. It happens that they do not have a license but rather one is pending because the Enviromental Health Dept. still hadn’t inspected their facility.

And wouldn’t you know it, it’s actually a lot grosser than it sounds! There’s a nice little area of necrotic tissue pictured, which, as we all know, is the primary symptom of…a tattoo artist going too deep? What? Hey, I’m no doctor, but I’m pretty sure you don’t pick up a necrotizing Staph infection because your artist has a heavy hand. Anyway, folks, best of luck in your lawsuit. Care to make it class-action lawsuit? Eh? Eh? C’monnn.

[NJ Star-Ledger] So here’s a fun game to play: Go to Google News, type “Bagelhead” into the query field, look at the results, and then punch yourself in the dick/balls/ovaries/whatever hard enough that you will never, ever breed, thus saving your potential offspring from the horrid fate of having to share a planet with the reporters responsible for this new “BRAND NEW FAD” non-story. Apparently, some Japanese youths have started experimenting with inflating their foreheads with saline solution (as our old friends Jerome, Ryoichi and others have been photographed doing in the past), and of course, since something need only exist for it to become a fad, this is now a fad sweeping the sleepy fishing village of Japan. Oh, and apparently the people who are doing this are being called “Bagelheads,” because what would a dumb non-story be without the most outrageously stupid moniker imaginable attached to it? Hooray.

[Popcrunch] And finally, famous singer person Rihanna is going to jail, forever, for giving someone a tattoo. Apparently she thought it’d be a real hoot to pick up a tattoo machine while hanging out in New York and give some folks some little umbrella tattoos, except those photos were published (by the MEDIA), and now it’s been revealed that she was not properly licensed to be a tattoo artist, or something, so she will be put to death, the end.

Burned a Bottle Full


Oh Jesus, sorry to ruin your sunny Friday afternoon with this, but man alive would you look at this terrifying monster? People are just trying to leave the city to go drink at their cottages, the way God intended for them to spend Independence Day, but this creature in the flame-retardant suit is just cold tossin’ their cars this way and that. Could this be a metaphor for something? Something…sinister? Probably. Either that or it’s a scene from that damned new “Transformers” movie the kids are all crying about.

(Tattoo by Istvan at Primitive Origins Tattoo in Hammersmith, England.)