Positive Thinking Meets J.J.'s Sarcasm

“I was just sitting here, listening to some good ol' country music.

The singer just said, "If heaven wasn't so far away, I'd pack up the kids and go for the day."

 

Wouldn't that be nice?

...And if the bar wasn't on the other side of the fence, I'd go for a drink.  Yes, sir.

The other day, a friend gave me a self-help book.  …Something about the good effects of positive thinking. One of the things I read was about problems in your life.  They may seem 'bad' or 'big.'  The book said to remind yourself these are "small things in the eyes of a giant."

Come on, man - what the fuck?

First thing that came to mind, was we aren't giants, so how is that supposed to help me?

Now I have heard 'take one day at a time,' but have you heard this one?  "Life by the inch is a cinch, but life by the yard is hard."

Again - W.T.F.??

 

Is this all it takes to write a book?  My buddies and I used to sit back and do some bong hits, then for our own entertainment, we would come up with these one-liners.  It never crossed my mind to write a self-help book.  We could all be rich!

Imagine that!

“...A friend with weed is a friend indeed."  Then again, when you're stoned, you tend to forget shit.  Like... what was the problem anyway?  Have you ever seen a stoner really stressin' some problem?  I didn't think so!  Give a stoner a Mt. Dew and a bag of Doritos and there's no problem at all!

(uhhh... I Googled "stoner food" and this is what caught my eye.  

If it makes me a stoner just 'cause I had to catch the drool before it hit my laptop, so be it.)

However, there are plenty of people who don't smoke weed.  Thankfully, there is some guy writing these self-help books for them.  Just ask Charlie Sheen.  

 (It's all just really sad, isn't it?)

...All you have to do is visualize it, and it's yours.  Here, let's try it... All together now, let's think about WINNING!  Did it work?  Maybe you didn't visualize it hard enough.  Then again, what exactly is Charlie winning, anyway?  Looks like Ashton Kutcher is the one winning!

 (Mmmm hmmm...)

I don't know.  Sometimes I visualize being free again.  That turns out to be a real let-down.  However, if I visualize a nice piece of ass, it always helps me get off quicker.  Well, well - perhaps these things DO work!

...Speaking of visualizing things....  I'm taking yoga class now.  Perhaps you know where I'm going with this. Have you seen some of those yoga positions?  Holy mother!  Now, of course, my whole class is a bunch of dudes.

I have decided yoga is definitely something I plan to pursue on the street.  I'll set my mat up at the back of the class.

 

I'm sorry, a guy needs goals in his life... right?  Not too often you see people who can put their legs behind their ears.

One of my buddies came by and read what I wrote so far.  He threw out a comment of his own: "The negativity that we endure can become the fuel that drives us."  Why, thank you Stanley.  Did you know you have a vacuum named after you?  I believe it's called the Stanley steamer.  Just like you, it's full of a lot of hot air.  Naw, I'm just playin' man.  Thank you for your positive thoughts :)  ...Seems there is also a whole line of power tools named Stanley too, and we all know what a tool you are.  

Mmm... "Fat Max" is right...

...No, that thing between your legs is hardly a tool, silly.  Since this is all about 'positive thinking,' let's move on and get off poor Stanley.

I've already had far too much fun with this whole positive thinking thing.  To me, laughter will continue to be one of the best medicines ever.  However, I am always open to your suggestions.

On that note, I will leave you with a couple of the quotes taken from the 2010 Handbook for Positive Thinking.

1. Life is a school and you are here to learn.  Problems are simply part of the curriculum that appear and fade away like Algebra class... but the lessons you learn will last a lifetime!

2. Take a 10-30-minute walk daily, and while you walk, SMILE! :)

3. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dinner like a beggar.

4. Don't take yourself so seriously!  Nobody else does!

5. Dream more while you're awake.

6.  What other people think of you is none of your business... forgive everyone for everything!

7.  Your inner-most is always happy, so be happy!!

...Always remember...

8.  The best is yet to come.

9.  When life hands you lemons, make lemonade!

...Thank you!  Thank you!!  Please come again.  Next show tomorrow at 7.  Tip your waiter!!  :)

OH YEAH!  ...Have I mentioned lately that it's CRAZY not to enter to win this free custom artwork giveaway?  >>>>CLICK HERE<<<< and leave a comment including your name to enter.  TWO MORE DAYS!

The Answer is Love

"I was recently reconnected with a childhood friend.  She wrote me to tell me she is now happily married and expecting her first child.  She went on to tell me she had been on J.J. reading about my life.

In her letter, she asked me a few questions, but one really stuck out.  “As someone about to become a parent, I’m interested in knowing how to create a sense in my child that some rules are in place as a way to protect us, rather than control us.”

I have often marveled that we can send people into space, create weapons of mass destruction, but no one can figure out the formula for flawless parenting.  Personally, I feel the Bible itself probably comes closest to any manual you should even consider trying to live by.

Now hold on.  There’s no pulpit anywhere near me.  It’s not Sunday, and I’m not about to preach.  Go to your local church for that, or e-mail the ‘Probable Preacher.’

Often times I try to make you think.  Well, my friend made me think.

I grew up in a conservative Christian home.  Many times over the years, I have rebelled against the way I was raised.  At times it was a little over the top.  To this day, I cringe when I hear, “thou shalt not!”  Then again, I probably wouldn’t be where I am today if I had paid more attention during church.  …But there was that cute girl who sat two pews in front of me, and a tic-tac-toe game to play with my brother.

God bless my Moma.  She never gave up, and I gave her plenty of reasons to.  That in itself has probably affected me the most over my life; the love of a mother for her children.  It would very closely resemble the love that God has for each of us.  No matter what we do, it seems impossible to fall from their grace.  I think that a good mother teaches her children the love of God through her actions than any manual could ever teach.

Jeez, I got a smile on my face and a tear rolling down my cheek.  The tear would be because this is serious stuff we’re talking about.  Probably 80% of J.J. readers are female, and a large number of you have kids.  I could have wrote my friend back a letter, then again, as a parent, do you ever question yourself?  Do you wonder if you are a good parent?

I’m not a Mom.  I don’t know what runs through you ladies’ heads.  However, after toting that little one around for 9 months, you’re not gonna want to one day give up on them.  Am I right?"

(Thanks to Jamie and to Amanda Witt Photography for permission to use this beautiful photo)

"Ha!  The smile on my face is because this conversation is probably tripping you out.  The stuff we talk about on J.J.  We’re doing this because I have a heart and I care.  My friend asked me a question that I realized a lot of you mothers probably ask yourself.

I want you to laugh, but at the end of the day, I’m still a man who broke the law and is now doing a prison sentence.

Dr. Phil has a degree to do what he does.  I just have a life-time of real life experiences.  I’m already here, but maybe I could share some ways I think you could spare your child from my life.  So as we all laugh about the bull-shit I’ve put myself through, please take something away from this that is deeper than only laughter.

If you are, or ever plan to be a mother, pour your heart into your child.  Don’t stop when they hit their teens and you think they hate you.  That’s when your love counts the most.

Whether you try to use a Christian approach, or just love unconditionally, you are showing the very love of God.  Let me tell all you mommies this.  There will come a day when you can’t hold that child.  Maybe they are states away at a college, maybe they are fighting for our country, or maybe they are locked in a prison cell.  That love you showed will always be there to comfort and to hold them.

In answer to your question, Alicia, love is the answer.  In answer to your next question: Yes, our perceptions of our earthly parents do color our perception of what God must be like.

On a lighter note, you’re now taking advice from J.J.?  OH MY!  

Dark Days

“When was the last time you just wished you could go take a nap and wake up tomorrow?

Lately, I wish I could fall asleep for the next 7 or 8 years.  Stuff just begins to weigh heavy on your shoulders.  Some days even the funny guy can’t find anything to laugh about.  Back here we say you’re ‘going through it.’

Welcome to real life.

My cloud has been looming since Memorial Day.  I was sitting on my bunk and Z.Z. Top came on the radio.  …“Cheap Sunglasses.”

I closed my eyes and was riding down a country road on my Harley, kicked back, smelling flowers.  The song ended, and when reality came back it hit me in the face like a Mac truck.

I am not free.  I am not riding my Harley through a flower patch.  The sun is not shining.  I got no mail last week.  My phone privileges are restricted and I have no money on canteen.  I had a few sheets of paper to write on, but as of now, not even an envelope to mail this with.

Seems like it’s been one thing after another.  If you’re having a good day, read this some other time.

Today, life sucks.  Don’t let it soil your day, but the life of J.J. is not always peachy.  I preach all about ‘keeping it real,’ yet it seems I only write for laughs.

Well, right now there’s a cloud over my head and I want to go to bed until further notice.

I’m usually the guy who sees the glass as half-full, rather than nearly empty.  Right now I wish it was half-full of Jack.

Mom and I have coffee on Saturday mornings, we try and fix problems.  I hate to tell my mom I have problems because then she wants to fix me.  I constantly remind myself that I can’t change anything out there, so don’t sweat it.  The same goes for my mom.  She can’t hug me, hold me, put her hand on mine and tell me it will be OK.  This is why prison sucks.  My family and anyone who loves me is doing this time with me.  When I hurt, they hurt.  I know this.  That’s why I keep all this shit to myself.  My family means that much to me and I don’t want them to cry for me.  I can carry this burden myself, I don’t need any help.

But today it hurts.  And J.J. cries.

(Photo by Jacob Hekter, borrowed from "The Atlantic")

Can the people I have hurt in my life get some peace from that?  Can I at least comfort myself with that?  All the hurt, pain, and tears I have caused others – am I paying back a debt to society?  …Or are you still out there, judging me, pointing fingers?

This life isn’t funny.  Nothing about prison is cool.  I refuse to give up, always telling myself this will one day make me a more loving, caring man.  Plenty of others before me gave up.  I’m not the only one who feels like this.  Just let me talk it out.  I refuse to end up like the others.

Steven took the laces out of his boots and made a noose.  While we were all at chow, he was hanging himself from his bunk post.  John cut both his wrists and bled to death while everyone was on the rec. yard.  Nobody should see this shit.  

Have I painted some rosy picture of what life back here is like?  Does it only look like we’re having a blast – always laughing?  Do the people I’ve hurt in my lifetime really wonder if I’m paying a price for my sins?

I’m sorry if my dark cloud just rained on your sunny day. 

Then again, maybe somebody is reading this that needed to see this perspective.  Maybe you don’t like me and think I got off easy.  Maybe you read J.J. and are offended that a criminal has so many laughs in a day.  That’s not the case.  I just don’t tell you about those days.

To the people who no longer call me a friend, to all the ones who hauled ass when shit hit the fan, tonight I'll pray for you as I pray for myself.

Dear God, if you can hear me now, take the pain, make it all go away.  Please let tomorrow be a sunny day.”

Copyright M.S. 2011, all rights reserved.

SCOTTIE SAYS:

I just read something J.J. wrote before he sent it off to be posted and it made me think.  Many times when J.J. writes something, I get to read it and let him know what I think.  This time I‘ll allow you in on this. 

I’m sure you’ve read “Horseplay” and either laughed, thought it was stupid or silly, or maybe you were like, ‘These guys aren’t serving real time…they’re just playing around like it’s summer camp.’

Well, this last piece Mike wrote, “Dark Days,” is right on the money.  This place sucks.  Not in the loose definition of the word, but in the all-encompassing form of the word.  At times, it absolutely hurts, it demeans, it laughs at you.  That’s why we try to lighten it up for each other with bullshit. 

I’m going through some of the very same things as J.J. when it comes to actual time.  All of our family and friends – shit, even some people I don’t know, but who know my family – are doing this time with me.  And I’m the same as J.J. on not burdening them with everything we actually go through back here.  When we write, call home (when we can), or visit, we don’t want to taint that time with the dark, twisted and really shitty stuff that goes on back here.  We keep it light, fun, full of smiles and good times.  When we do interact with the outside, it takes us away from this crap.  Those sacred 15-minute phone calls, those 2-or more-page letters, the ‘Thinking of You’ cards, the 6-hour visit, the one-liner comments you post on J.J. – all of this helps in more ways than you know.  I’m not saying you need to do more of these things, I’m just relaying to you how much they mean to us and the importance those small gestures have in our everyday prison lives.

I know that just about everyone on J.J. and in the free world has heard the saying, “Same shit, different day.”  That’s how it is here – we wear the same clothes 24/7, 365, we eat a weekly rotation of the same food, we wake up and go to sleep exactly the same time every day, we have phone and TV between 5 p.m. and 10 p.m., rec. the same time (if they allow us to go outside), etc.  It’s never changing ...except what a guard may call you - inmate, dumbass, low-life, scumbag - or when someone else is having a shitty day and picks a fight or hurts themselves.  Or maybe when they shake us down and take all of our personal belongings (pictures, letters, magazines, and such), tear it all up, throw it on the floor, kick it around, dump it all over your bed and treat it like trash….

What I’m saying is this: We do not have it easy, we don’t have a number of choices for what we’d like to do today, we don’t even have the liberty to just take a break from it all.  We are here.  This is prison. 

J.J. made me think about that in the post I just read.  The real prison.

Anyway, some days we get by and it’s bearable, other days it just kicks the shit out of you.  J.J. is having one of those days.  Thankfully, when I have one, J.J. is there for me.  Today, I’ll try to be there for him.  It’s days like these, dark days, when your local felon needs the most support.

-Scottie.

Open Up and Say Ahhhh!

"Yeah, got your attention now, don't I?  Listen, I want to give mad props to my sister.  Ester and her husband have had a lifetime worth of shit handed to them in the last couple years.  My hat is off to you, sis, for the great job you are doing.

J.J. may experience technical difficulties from time to time.  That's OK folks!  You're in good hands with Ester and myself.  Please bear with us.

Please note the ART GIVEAWAY.  Come on, people, tighten up and put your name up there.  Often times, I wonder how many people read this blog.  There is really no way for us to tell other than counting hits." 

 (OMG!  MAMA!  Tell Mike we're gonna hit 10,000 this week! <-- Big dealz in our network of supporters)

"So, you want to do J.J. a favor?  Let's see how many of you will enter this art thingy.  Trust me, you are going to get a bad-ass piece of art.  I'm not going to cut any corners on you just because it's free.  Each and every one of you reading this blog put a smile on my face.

I'm just a Tattoo'd Hooligan doing time.  However, J.J. allows me to free my mind, and each one of you reading helps to lighten the pressure of life behind bars.  I kid you not when I say a very humble thank you.  That's from the bottom of my heart.

So enter this custom art giveaway.  Be a part of this thing.  Whoever wins this art is going to walk away with some sick art, plus bragging rights.

Show me and Ester some love here!  This is my way of saying thank you all for reading and for following my life.  J.J. is a couple months short of the one year mark.  Let's step it up some!  Come on, people - show some love for your local felon!

(P.S. from Ester, as of 8 a.m. Monday, June 20, 2011, only 10 days remain for you to enter the contest and only 6 entries!  SIX!  2x3!  Your odds of winning are ginormous!  *SIGH* ...and if your fear is that you'll go to the Post Orifice and ol' Hal the mailman narrows his eyes because you suddenly have mail addressed to you from a PRISON, don't worry about it... I, Ester, will be mailing you your piece from Alaska, and you will only get narrowed eyes from ol' Hal the mailman if he has some problem with Sarah Palin, freedom, or America, in which case he's a communist, and how did the United States Postal Service MISS that he was a communist when they hired him????  I kid, I kid!  But really, not kidding about the part where you will not be getting mail directly from a prison.  So don't you worry your little head about THAT.  This is all good, legal, fun, beautiful artsy stuff we're doing here.)

"Ester, you rock!  Thank you for connecting me to the world out there.  This thing continues to make me smile from ear to ear!"

Know what else has us in all smiles?  THESE GUYS:

Whaaa?  You don't know who that is?  Pshhh!  Are you KIDDING??  It's SCOTTIE AND HIS MOM!  Yep!  If you have no idea who I am talking about, then I feel sorry for you.  Go here or here to read some of the great stuff Scottie has written for this here blog thinger, then come back, say something sweet, and no cussin' cause his Mama's a lady!  Seriously, I was so super excited to open up a letter from Michael (this is Ester speaking - sorry, I know it gets confusing sometimes) and have this fall out of the envelope.  In my return letter to Mike, I drew a picture of how I had pictured Scottie in my head before I got the true visual.  It was hilarious "Count of Monte Cristo," Johnny Depp kind of graphics on lined yellow paper, and I hope Scottie laughs his ass off when he sees it.  Thanks to Scottie for being my brother's awesome friend, and thanks to Sherri for supporting her favorite felon.  We appreciate everything you two do and all that you are.  Moms kick ass!  
 
Much Love,

J.J.

Keep It Real

“Hello again J.J. Crew!  Seems you are a rowdy bunch :)

I called home last night and was able to speak to my youngest brother.  He signed on to J.J. to give me a quick update over the phone.  The last piece Ester had ran was Heart 2 Heart.  Spud says, “Quit apologizing, Mike!”  He read to me Erica’s comment and a few others.  Then he said, “Your shit is just fine!  That’s why we read it!”  Well, thanks!  So I can feel free to be myself?  Sweet!!

By the way, to those of you paying attention, my sister Grace wrote me back.  Her letter arrived just about 5 days after we faced her (Ester would post a link, but an executive decision was made to take down the post because of good, old-fashioned Christian guilt - works 70% of the time EVERY TIME!).  That means she read that post, wrote “FUCK YOU MIKE” on a piece of paper, and mailed it out the next day.

No, I’m just playing.  Her “Fuck you” was more subtle.  What she said was, “At least I’m getting some.”  Nice, Grace!  That was a low blow.  However, then she goes even lower.  Yeah… “Unless you’re getting some of that good prison sex you talk about.”  Silly wabbit!  You should know… dicks are for chicks!

OK, OK!  I know… not everyone reading agrees with that.  Before you start hatin’ on me, work with me here.  I’m not dissing on that.  I love me some gay people.  You all count as hits too!

So I do what I can.  I’m learning to give good phone.  Well, what would you call it?  What’s it called when you write it out on paper?  …Paper passion, paper-porn, how about letter-love?  (Ester adds: It’s called “Literotica,” brother…just don’t google it).  The thing that gets me is that someone in our mail room reads all that before it’s even sent out.  So before that ‘dirty’ letter reaches the outside, some man or woman has read it.  Yeah, “A,” did you ever consider that?  That means all that stuff I write you has been read at least once before you get it.  Remember that last one I sent?  Yeah – THAT one – I wouldn’t doubt if they passed it around the mail room and let everyone read it.  We may have had a threesome and never even knew it!  Crazy.  That may explain why those letters seem to take a couple extra days to reach you.  That doesn’t count as ‘cheating,’ right?

Allow me to get back to the subject here….  A while back I drew a picture of me and my tats – Got Ink? – Gracie’s next question is, “Are you really that big, or did you enhance yourself?”

No, Gracie, I’m really that size.  And I’m small compared to most of these guys.  …Medium, at best.  The uniforms they give us to wear are like trash bags.  You really can’t tell a dude’s size in these outfits.  That’s why you don’t just go around prison talking shit.  You can’t size a dude up when they are dressed – and our gay readers just loved that one… yup, just walked straight into that one – anyway, yeah – that’s my size because I work out 5 days a week, two hours a day, and for nearly 2.5 years now.

Gracie, I love you.  We’re cool, right? 

You know, it’s hard to get protein in prison.  They don’t feed us any – you have to buy it off the canteen.  For the past year, I have been eating a huge peanut butter sandwich every day for protein.  About a month ago, I changed it up and went to tuna fish.  I guess it’s the fish oil.  I thought that stuff was supposed to be really good for you.  All I see is I’m now breaking out in zits.  For real.  I’m 32 years old.  Those of you who knew me in high school, I was the fat kid with zits.  I’m having flash-backs!  For real, I woke up yesterday and had a land-mine in the center of my forehead.  No, I couldn’t resist, and I began fucking with it.  Yes, that made it even bigger.  It really did bring back the dreaded days of puberty and high school.*   

Scottie didn’t help things either.  Asshole! 

“Hey Mike, what’s that thing on your forehead?  …Has it declared independence?  …Looks like it needs its own zip code!”

So I’m gonna give the tuna fish another week or so and see if my body adjusts."

 (Photo borrowed from iGadget Life.  And hey guys and girls! Helpful hint of the day!  Don't Google "Zits."  Just don't...)

"Yes, I have jumped all over the board with this update.  That’s how my mind works.  ‘Blame it on my A.D.D.’  There’s a new rock song out, and that’s the hook.  I laugh every time I hear it. 

Thanks for letting me be me.  I encourage you to be YOU.  It’s the best way to live life.

Til next time!”

J.J.

*Note from Ester: Gonna have to mail Mike a copy of his high school yearbook so he can see how awkward and geeky and zitty everyone seemed to be back then... 


And HEY! EVERYBODY!  Remember to enter for the free art giveaway!!! 

There are only 5 entries right now and 15 days to enter!

Horseplay (semi-offensive-ish - fair warning for the queasy)

Ester's intro: This piece is lighthearted and pretty "normal" for any large group of guys, as far as I know.  If you're in the military, live in barracks, have been deployed, or have been in a fraternity, this might all sound familiar.  If you're a woman, here's one more reason to roll your eyes at the neanderthal which remains in men everywhere.

(I never thought about the fact that 'velveteen leopard-print mini-dress'

is synonymous with caveman fashion.  Go figure!) 

"Often times over the past three years I have been down, my mom has asked me this question:  “Son, tell me what it’s really like back there.

Well, are you ready to hear the really crazy shit I don’t usually write about?  Sure you are!

You’ve all met Scottie.  Well, yesterday he passed out at like 2 p.m., laid out on his bunk with no shirt on.  We all stood around looking at him, wondering who would be the first to pounce.  It wasn’t long and a guy comes over with “Icy Hot” and puts a drop on each one of Scottie’s nipples.  That didn’t take long before Scottie sat up, pissed, looking for the guilty party. 

Wouldn’t you know - the guy who did it points to me… “He did it.”  You see, we all play hard, but Scottie likes to think out his come-backs.  It would do no good to try and deny I was involved.  I became involved when I let the other guy put the icy-hot on Scott.

So that happened at 2 p.m. yesterday.  That was on Scott’s mind all last night.  At 5:30 a.m. today, when they turned the lights on for breakfast, everyone saw me and Scottie spooning.  Very carefully, Scott had climbed into bed with me.  Scott did it at just the right time so everyone saw it.  Nice job Scott!  Then, as he jumps up and acts like the lights ‘caught us by surprise,’ he yells, “He was moaning too!!”  Nice Scott, I’ll give you that one.

Well, a few minutes ago I walk by Scott as he’s telling a joke.  He has quite an audience, so I feel the need to take advantage of the situation.  I ‘pants’ (also known as ‘de-pants-ing’) Scottie as he’s telling the joke.  He actually has his hands full, so he can’t react right away to pull them back up.  So he’s left standing in front of a bunch of dudes with his junk hanging out.  Crazy part – he never missed a lick telling his joke – that’s my boy! 

Trouble is what will he do to get me back?

Last time I was duped by Scottie, he ‘pants-ed’ me while I was brushing my teeth.  There were about eight guys who saw that.  You see, between the strip-searches, pat-downs, and shake-downs, being naked isn’t odd anymore.  We have to up the ante now.  That just means try and catch a guy while there is a big audience.  The bigger, the better.

One advantage Scott has is he wakes up really early.  I don’t.  So I wake up, half asleep, making my bed, and hear Scott behind me say, “Hey, man, give me a hand with this!”

So I turn around to see what he needs…

There is Scottie, bent over, showing his bare ass to me as he’s touching his ankles.  W.T.F.?!?!

Think that’s bad?  Wait ‘til he shows you the “goat.”  Let me explain: The goat is when you bend over, touch your ankles, but pull both the dick and balls out behind your legs.  Then you pinch your legs together to hold it like that.  So if you are the one looking at the goat, you see a bare ass, and dick and balls scrunched in below that.  Do you get the picture?

(I'm not real sure this is what all that looks like, 

but I'm not going there on Google just for a blog post.  No thanks!)

Another problem we have here are the spiders.  Spiders bite guys during the summer months.  Well, if Scottie or H.A. ask you to look at their spider bite, don’t do it.  What they do is pull the leg of their shorts up and let one ball hang out.  Now one guy looks at that and turns in disgust.  But another guy reaches out and smacks that one little ball.  That’s how we play.  So if you’re gonna be sick and play hard, be careful.

Our friend Lance is around for all our shit.  However, he usually observes, rolls his eyes, and keeps a safe distance away from the action. 

I get out of the shower naked and Scott smacks my bare ass as hard as he can and says, “Nice game.”  I’m left with a red hand-print.  H.A. whipped me in the nuts with a rolled up towel the other day.  That shit nearly took my breath away.  I almost cried.  So I pull out the dick and tell him to sit on it.  …To which he replies, “Put it in my hand.”  I put it away and scrap that idea.  None of us go that way, but playing that way provides hours of entertainment.

So when my friend Candy asked if any of us were homophobic?  Nah – I would say absolutely not.

When life isn’t serious, and we have the opportunity to forget where we are for a moment, that’s priceless.  At times, our group of 30+-year-old guys act like college kids in a frat-house.  You may not understand this, but we are in an extreme situation here.  It takes some extreme horseplay to get your mind out of here.  There are a couple of us who try real hard to make that happen.  You’ve met them – Lance, H.A. and Scott.  Brothers from different mothers, my friends and yours too." J

Keepin’ it real,

J.J.




Hey guys and girls, remember to enter before July 1 for the custom piece giveaway!

J.J. Burnout Video

Our little brother found this video on Mike's old cell phone.  Enjoy!

Enter to Win A Custom Piece by J.J.!

Hey there guys and girls!  J.J. is starting a 30-day countdown today, June 1, 2011 for a custom piece made for you by J.J.  You have to sign up on THIS post!  Leave us a comment here any time between now and June 30.

Maybe you have a tattoo you regret – do you want a cover-up piece made just for you?  Maybe you just want a custom piece of Tattoo’d Hooligan artwork.  Want something to hang on the wall?  …A future tattoo? 

If your name is drawn from the entries, you can pass on 3 ideas for what you’d like the piece to be.  If you want a tattoo cover-up, I’ll ask for a picture of your current tattoo.  Whatever you’d like the piece to be about, it will be custom-made for you.  Want bragging rights to a badass piece made in prison just for you?  Leave a comment here.  You MUST include your first name and last initial.  An e-mail address is a bonus if you want us to actually be able to contact you.  You’ve got until June 30, so leave a comment here to win your own piece customized by the Tattoo’d Hooligan!

For more samples of Tattoo'd Hooligan's artwork, click here.