Friday Free for all #37: Creepy tattoos

The next in an ongoing series in which I answer random questions generated by a website. Here’s this week’s question Feel free to give your own answers in the comments.

What do you think of tattoos? Do you have any?

I don’t have any serious objections to tattoos, to a point. I think they can be a beautiful expression of some facet of a person’s personality. But… they do completely turn me off when they become too extreme, like if someone has full sleeves on both arms, or either or both sides of their torso are heavily covered.

Anything from the neck up, forget it, especially on the face, and the worst aesthetic violence that can be done to a nice ass is to bury it in ink.

I don’t currently have any tattoos, but only because I could never decide what to get, although I have ideas, which I’ve written about here before.

Out of everyone I’ve ever been in a long-term relationship with, only one of them had tattoos — a side effect of dating nice Jewish boys, who don’t get tattoos. But the tattooed one was a stylist from Australia whose mother came from Malta and father came from Lithuania. They met on the boat over while leaving Europe for Australia, and the rest was history.

He actually spoke Maltese, which is fascinating because it’s the only Semitic language written with the Latin alphabet — which is the one you’re reading this article in.

Anyway, he did have a lot of tattoos when I met him and we started dating, and more continued to appear during our relationship. That had nothing to do with why we ended it, though, but it’s another thing I’ve noticed about people who seem to pass a certain “tattoo limit.”

They just keep going, like it’s become an addiction, sometime with extreme results, as in the case of Rock Genest who came to a tragic but not tattoo-related end.

Of course, there’s always someone who goes further, and in this case Genest was very much outdone in the extreme tattoo and body mod department by the likes of Paul “The Enigma” Lawrence.

Then there’s always Sylvain Helaine who made the news recently because he was almost totally inked (or maybe totally, they don’t put those pictures in the paper), and so lost his job as a kindergarten teacher because one kid got scared.

Oh, don’t worry. He’s still teaching first grade up. The French are practical, not heartless.

What behaviors make you think a person is creepy?

I’m sorry if it makes me seem judgmental, but extreme body make-overs, like the above-cited Enigma, do make me think that a person is creepy, or at least not making the best life choices.

And that includes all of the extreme bod-mod freaks, like Jocelyn Wildenstein, who was infamous for having a long series of plastic surgeries to make her look like a cat, with questionable results.

In her divorce in 1999, she received $2.5 billion in a settlement, plus $100 million per year for the next 13 years but, in a brilliant turn, the judge prohibited her from spending any of that money on more plastic surgery.

She did sell the house in New York for $13 million, presumably to finance her surgeries and yet, somehow, she managed to go bankrupt in 2018, just six years after the gravy train stopped at the last station. She turned 80 this year, so who knows what she looks like at this point.

I bring up the details of her life only because they do illustrate the point: there’s a lot of  creepy of the cringe variety going on here, and you can see it in other cases, like the couple who spent over $300K on plastic surgery in order to look like Barbie and Ken. No fairytale wedding and Malibu Beach House for them, though

Eventually, they broke up, reportedly because “Barbie” dyed her blonde hair brunette and “Ken” didn’t like it. Sadly, “Ken,” aka Quentin Dehar, committed suicide in February 2020 at the age of 27. (The only links about it online in English seem to be badly machine-translated from the French press, since he was a TV host there but not really well-known elsewhere.)

By the way, Quentin wasn’t the only adult human wanting to transform himself into Ken. There were at least two more.

But all of this is just small beans compared to the ultimate in creepy, and that is trying to force yourself sexually on someone who isn’t interested, or in a situation where they wouldn’t expect it — a “pastime” that seems to be engaged in by almost exclusively men.

Oh, not completely exclusively, but women do make up a very small percentage of exhibitionists, who are people who derive sexual gratification by exposing themselves to others.

In some cases, they even masturbate, often in public places hoping to get caught, which elevates the creepy factor up another level. Finishing in public (and on a public place) notches up the creepy again, and if a guy ladles out his bone gravy in a public restroom or on a public sidewalk or anywhere else with that P word in it and doesn’t clean it up, he wins the king creepy award in this category.

Of course, there are worse things. The best defense against some guy exposing himself is to joint point at his junk and laugh, then walk away. But there are other creepy people who go further.

The stereotype of construction workers hooting at women on the street exists for a reason. Sure, it probably almost never happens now, but it used to be a common thing.

And there’s still the phenomenon, which many of my female friends have complained about, of complete strangers (guess the gender) making comments to them like, “Looking good,” or “You should smile,” or a suggestive “Well, hello.”

One of the funniest instant responses to that which I ever saw was in the long ago days before COVID, when I was walking into a 7-Eleven behind a woman who got to the door before me. Some guy standing outside made some comment of the “looking good” variety, and without missing a beat or pausing at all, she flipped him of and walked inside.

I couldn’t help but laugh. The creep deserved it.

See, if you don’t know the woman there’s no reason at all to engage her unless maybe you’re in the elevator asking her what floor she’s going to. The one exception might go something like this:

“Hey, that is a really nice (blouse/hat/scarf/perfume) you’re wearing, and my (girlfriend/wife/side piece) would love that. Where did you get it?” The caveat, of course, is that you’re actually asking so you can get it for your SO, you get the information, thank her and leave.

Incidentally, this kind of creepy is not exclusive to straight men. Gay men do it all the time, particularly much older ones creeping on twinks. This one is particularly prevalent online, with inappropriate comments galore any time some young attractive guy posts a photo, suggestive or not, anywhere that older gay men hang out.

Of course, I’d guess that the majority of those people commenting would not be so bold as to say the same things in person, but a good rule of thumb there is that unless it’s an outright, “Hey look at me naked and tell me I’m hot” kind of posting forum, if you wouldn’t walk up to them and say it to their face, then hold your horses and don’t be so damn thirsty online.

Same rule applies to the straight boys and the bi boys.

Obviously, the next level of creepy after comments is unwelcome physical touch, and the rule here is this: Outside of shaking hands upon introductions or hugs between friends who’ve established this as the norm (both of which may not exist post-COVID), if you’re not married to it, dating it, fucking it, or paying to fuck it, hands off. Period.

Of course, medical professionals and parents/family members get obvious exceptions, although none of that touching should be in any way sexual, and the only one who should be penetrating any orifice should be doing it for strictly diagnostic reasons.

Unless you’re fucking your doctor, of course, in which case that’s already been covered.

But… getting too close physically, and doing things like putting your hand on a shoulder, or even hovering over someone — particularly if you’re of higher status in the hierarchy than the person you’re doing it to — is creepy.

It’s what women in business have had to put up with for decades, and it could be as subtle as a boss leaning over their shoulder to use their mouse to click something onscreen for them or as blatant as blocking the breakroom door, or doing the old lean on the wall while facing them and standing too close.

Outside of the business environment, this involves a lot of tits and asses getting groped and, again, it’s more of a bad-actor dude thing than it is a straight guy thing. When I was a young party twink and went out to the clubs, I had my ass grabbed without invitation more than a few times.

Of course, I was too young and naïve to see it as assault and, probably due to self-esteem issues, took it as a compliment instead in that awkward “any attention is good attention even it it’s creepy-rapey, right?”

See, back in the day, I did not think that I was at all attractive, but when I recently ran across some pictures of me in my mid-late 20s, the thing that most struck me was, “Jesus Christ, I was fucking hot.”

Shit. If only someone had told me that back then. But that gets into the whole irony factor — in bars and clubs, people won’t approach people they think are hot because they fear rejection. So I should have been the one hitting on people instead of just standing in the corner being shy.

On the other hand, due to that whole self-esteem thing, if anyone who decided to talk to me was half-way attractive, I’d wind up going home with them. Yeah, I was a slut.

Then again, I suppose I dodged another creepy bullet, which is people who “know” they’re hot, and tell you. (Note: They might not necessarily be.)

That’s because these are also the same asshats who will wind up trying to or succeeding at raping you, whether of the outright assault, roofie in the drink, or ignoring your No’s if the two of you go home together variety.

Rape and sexual assault are the creepiest things of all, with the act being committed against an adult human being at Level C, but only because doing it against an adolescent minor is Level B, and doing it to a pre-pubescent child or younger is Level A.

Note that evilness on that scale is in ascending order. The lower the letter, the hotter the hell the perp should burn in. Not that Level C shouldn’t be hot enough to melt the Sun.

Moral of the story: There is a place and time for you to get jiggy with yourself or with someone else, although if you engage in any of the behaviors noted here, you don’t deserve any sexy time with anything that isn’t a Fleshlight or Fleshjack. (You can google those yourself because both pages are totally NSFW. Option one is the straight dude version, and option two is the gay one.)

Oh, right. I almost forgot. The one behavior creepier than anything above is knowingly and willingly voting for Donald Trump on November 3rd. That action alone will go to the lowest circle of Hell available.

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