Okay, I’ll admit it: Guys who embroider kinda creep me out.
And guys who embroider and then admit to it on their brand new blogs really creep me out.
But worst of all — like, the cream of the creepy crop worst, I mean — are those guys who embroider, admit to it on their new blogs, and then link to my site. What do such people want, do you think…?
Whatever, it’s not important. Just so long as they know I’m watching them. And rest assured, I am…
(Of course, if it turns out such guys are really chicks, I take it all back. Embroider away! And then bring me a beer, willya honey…?)
Hey, I’m the guy he’s talking about. Actually I don’t embroider, a big honking 600 lb. embroidery machine with all sorts of electronics, servos, motors and gizmos, hooked to a couple of computers running dedicated software, does the embroidery. Believe me, a Melco Superstar IV is very much a guy kind of thing. My ex wouldn’t even learn how to use it and she loves sewing machines.
Me, I just do the designs and run the machine. I’ve done a bunch of cars, vintage electric guitars, stuff for some rock bands and a red, white and blue version of the Detroit Red Wings logo (a gift for Hull & Chelios who were on the US olympic team). All very manly embroidery designs.
Wasn’t part of Rosie Greer’s schtick that he did needlepoint? Or was it crocheting? Anyway, a guy like him, he can do it with no comment from me.
Well, sounds manly enough. Say, do you suppose you could get ink to those needles and use the machine to make tatoos?
Well, I couldn’t because tatooing is prohibited by Jewish law (actually, getting a tatoo is the literal prohibition but I’m pretty sure the inkslinger role is also a no-no).
And, in case someone were to try, remember the slowest speed the machine runs at is about 400 stitches per minute. Ouch!
I’ve got a tattoo. But then, I’m adopted (Irish by birth). Got the tattoo in Ireland, if that makes any difference to Yahweh…?
Actually, the commandment in question also talks about cutting yourself to make a mark. I didn’t understand this until I read a book called Modern Primitives, published maybe ten years ago or more but actually catching on early to the “body modification” fad, involving tatoos, piercings, and some stuff that makes the kid with enough steel in his face to make a set of radial tires look positively normal.
Anyway, the book discussed scarification, where native cultures would cut the skin and force scar growth in decorative patterns.
BTW, I don’t believe that it was coincidental that the Nazis tatooed numbers on the arms of Jewish concentration camp prisoners. Just as they would schedule “aktions” on Jewish holidays.
I’m a goyische guy, so I have nothing to add on Judaica. But in regards to embroidery, I can say:
“I’m a Lumberjack, and I’m OK.”
And Steve – well, all I can say is thanks, man. I’m truly impressed. Be careful out there.
http://timblair.blogspot.com/2002_08_11_timblair_archive.html#80219439
Wow, Steve. Thank you. My thoughts are with you and your family. What a man.
Steve Skubinna said my first thought… And I think Rosie did both, but on plane trips mostly crochet (or tatting) – no sharp points.
Ronnie, the Nazi tattooing was just efficiency- cheaper and MUCh less likely to be lost than an ID. The SS tattooed their troops’ pay numbers in their armpits, same reasoning.
I don’t embroider but I’d be willing to fake it for a plug!
If you recall, Ricky, the hefty masher of a next-door neighbor from “Better Off Dead,” liked to crochet. And he was scary.
“He keeps trying to put his testicles all over me!”
“His what?”
“Um… octopus?”
“Oh! You mean ‘tentacles.’ Big difference.”