For The Homies By The Homies

What better thing to do at the end of a grueling work week than to treat myself to some excruciating pain in the form of a new tattoo. I saw where Reliant Center was hosting a humongous Tattoo Expo this weekend, so I figured that would give me a chance to ride the rail AND meet interesting people. My friend, Jamie, of Wes & Jamie, has been telling me for months what an adventure riding the rail is. Jamie has reminisced many evenings at Water2Wine about the ambiance of of her rail commutes to and fro the med center during her work week. I couldn't wait to experience the smell of rotting garbage(and people), and the pimps attempting to cut their hoes...or is it hos? I'll ask Monday at school.

The rail ride was uneventful to Reliant, so I could only hope for better luck once the sun went down. Reliant Center was filling up with Houston's finest tattooed citizens. Artists were there fron TX, Louisiana, NV and Cali. The air was electrified with the buzz of the tattoo guns. I began my stroll around the expo, stopping to chat with varied artists about their creations. I then spied lots of hemp necklaces, Bob Marley t-shirts and glass pipes and knew that was where I needed to be. The purveyor of these delicacies was Chambah the Rastafarian. He sells his goods on South Congress in Austin. He said Austin had more hippies than Houston, so he made more $$$ there. Since I speak only English, and a smattering of Spanish and Hebrew, his Rastafarian lingo was lost on me. I liked King Chambah, and told him I would see him in Austin one day. On to the tattoo contest. It was just like Miss America. Contestants lined up and waited for their names to be called. They then sashayed up and down the runway, stopping to graciously pose for pictures. I got great shots of Brad from Houz Of Ink on FM 1960 and Crack Girl from Shreveport, LA. This really made me hungry for some new ink, but I only had $60 bucks...what's a girl to do? As I eventually made my way back to the starting point of the expo, I talked to David of Penitentiary Ink out of Long Beach, CA. Cholo Dave immediately asked me for some shrooms and/or pot, so I figured I could trust these guys. David told me the Big Lou would be honored to give me a new tat for $60. Oh boy! What a great night! I told Lou to remember he wasn't still in the big house, and please be gentle with this little, white school marm. After a relatively painless 15 minutes, I was sportin' a brand new tattoo. Life doesn't get better than this. I'm now an official homie since Penitentiary Ink's motto is For The Homies By The Homies. The band was rockin' some Stone Temple Pilots when I bid a sweet adieu to the Tattoo Expo. Now for the rail ride uptown. No crazies at the rail platform. At the first stop, a couple of unsavory gentlemen got on, then half a dozen smellies boarded at the next stop. I had my camera poised for shooting, then, all of a sudden at the med center stop, the stinkin' Metro po po jumped on screaming Get out your tickets! Get out your Q cards! It was like a Chinese fire drill but with homeless ants. Po po always spoils the fun. Sorry Jamie! I'll try again in the future. It was only 10pm when I got off the rail, so I went to Khon's for a few drinks. The Cory Wilson Jazz Group was playing. I was impressed, so if you ever get a chance to hear these young guys then do so. You won't be disappointed. No better end to a Friday night than sharing drinks and stories with my buds, Shannon and Cory and Khon. Like the great Chambah told me about age, I'm not getting older, I'm just getting more exposure.