A Decision. A Tattoo. A Contest.

Yes my lovely little ladies, I did it. I managed to make a fucking decision, and it didn't even kill me...yet.
I. AM. GOING. TO. FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRKKKKKKSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!

I'ma stand in front of this here sign.

I called The Forks Motel yesterday to reserve a room.  The dude who I spoke with cracked me up.  I told him the dates I wanted to reserve, and he was all like "That's quite a ways away, we should have plenty of........whoa. What's going on at the end of September??  Something for Twilight??"   I replied "How'd ya guess??"  Apparently the entire motel is nearly full, with 73 rooms being reserved for Twitards.  I nearly shit my shorts. I'm so fucking glad I called when I did, or else I might have had to sleep in my mini-van in the parking lot.

I will sleep pay for a room in this motel.

73 rooms??  Yep.  73 motherfucking rooms!!  I knew this was going to be epic.  I wonder what the head count is up to?  Anyone know?  Anywhore, I bow down to all who encouraged me called me a pussy and told me to just shut up and go already.  Those are the kind of sweet motivating words that get  my ass in gear.  I'm going to have to do alot of facehumping in Forks, especially if Mr. Pantz does indeed decide to tag along.  So......that's one major decision down.  Let's move right along to the next shall we?

Tattoo.  I've wanted one as long as I can remember.  I am almost the only one left out of my RL friends that has yet to be inked.  I vowed I would get one before I turned 30. Yep.  Apparently my solemn vows to myself aren't worth dick.  Here I am now, 32 1/2  (yeah, I said half)  have yet to get my ass up off my shoulders and just fucking do it.  Aaaaaaaaaaand being the totally indecisive whoreface that I am, have never fixed myself on what to get or where to place it.  I am running out of  "safe zones" on my body.  Ya know, places that are not saggy or riddled with stretchmarks (thanks fucking kids!), that I feel would be accomodating  to some body art.  I believe I have narrowed it down.  So.  What to get?  I think I may have found a way to decide.

A Contest!!!


                                   

TATTOO ME, FANDOM!!!

"Did you just say what I think you said??"

Yes. You read correct. I am holding a contest to choose what I get permanently etched in my flesh until it rots away and/or gets burned the fuck up.

Here's how this shit is going down:

I want you to give me your best idea(s) for my tattoo.  Think Twi. Think Rob. Think Fandom. Think E. Some of you bitches should know me pretty fucking well at his point.  I want something that will make me even prouder to belong to such a kickass community of twatwranglers!

I need you to email or comment me your ideas, inspirations, pictures (to illustrate examples), etc.
I will  narrow the entries down to a final few, depending on how many ideas are submitted.  After that, I will leave the the final decision entirely up to YOU.

You will vote on what you think is the most perfectest tattoo for me, and I will get it.
YES.  I WILL DO IT.  I"M NOT FUCKING ABOUT.
I'm not even close to kidding about this shit.

I know you think I must have some elepahant sized balls for doing this, which is true.  But I will still consider only serious entries.  I think we've all seen some fucked up twi-tatts this week and I will not go there.
I'm gonna leave this contest open for a while, but I want to have the chosen tatt on my skin before FOOOOORRRRRKKKSSSS!!!
I'll leave you time to ponder the enormity of what I'm asking.  Please contact me by emailing or commenting with any questions about any aspect of this contest.

I am serious about this.  I trust you guys more than some of my own family members.  Make me proud to sport some ink that will fuheveh and evah remind me of you and how much my life has been impacted by knowing you all!

Show me your goods!
Till next time,
xoxo
E