About thirty years ago, I was watching a friend of mine get stinking drunk, and though I warned him against the things he might do when drinking, did so anyway, just because.

Now, I was not, at the time, all that opposed to stupidity myself, and in fact often acted as if it were a virtue. This time, though, I was trying to prevent my friend from being a fool, and he wasn’t listening.

So he got hammered like an anvil.

And we got him tattoed.

Well, no, actually, we didnt- but we made him THINK he did.

One of our guys was a pretty good artist, and we had him do a drawing of the guys mom doing something unspeakable to a hog.

On his hand.

We then held his hand against the muffler of a car to cause it to swell somewhat and hurt.

He woke up, took one look, and wigged.

Now, I’ve seen people wig before, and I’ve seen people wig since, but I have never seen anyone wig out the way he wigged out, when he became convinced he had gotten a tat, in a visible spot, of something patently obscene.

I don’t think he ever forgave any of us.

He never drank heavily around us again, though.