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An explanation on meaning:

1) The number 37 is my lucky number. It has been my lucky number since I was about 12 or 13. My brother, who is 11 years my junior, would hear my mother telling me to be home by a certain time, such as 7:30 or 10:00 and, being only 3 or 4 years old at the time, he would always tell me to “Be home at 37″ which is the equivalent of saying “Be home on time.” for a 3 or 4 year old. After the first time he said that, 37 showed up in everything I did. I’m wondering if 37 is the age I’ll be when I kick off from this Valley of Tears. Creepy…

2) The brass plate concept is a nod to the character Tik-Tok, the Mechanical Man from the movie “Return to Oz.” (For those of you that are movie fans, this movie is Fairuza Balk’s first film. She’s the gal that played the bad crazy witch in “The Craft.”)

3) The location (my left breast-icle) is tribute to a song by one of my favorite bands, Pixies. There is a song by Pixies called “No. 13 Baby” from the album “Doolittle.” One the lines of the song is

Black tear fallin’ on my lazy queen
Gotta tattoo tit
Say number 13

Obviously, I opted for 37 instead of 13 since 37 is my lucky number (and, let’s face it, 13 is rather cliche these days).

For the record, I feel like someone has taken a meat tenderizer to my boob. FOUR HOURS of being poked and jabbed for my first tattoo… just my luck.

In memorial of one of last century’s dinosaurs of politics, that man that lived to be over 100 years old fueled by pure spite and viciousness, the one and (thankfully) only Jesse Helms, I post this blog entry from a long time AIDS advocate and victim.

In Memory of Jesse Helms and The Condom on his House.

Additionally, I submit this article from one of my favorite political blogs, The Rude Pundit, which gives us a fantastical view of what the vile Senator may have experienced shortly after his anxiously awaited departure from the remainder of humanity.

Jesse Helms in Heaven (A Fantasia)

My dear Senator, if there is some way that you can see all the people posting blogs voicing their joy at your passing on from this world, then justice has been served. I gleefully, joyously, maliciously, viciously add my voice to theirs. Rest in Distress, Senator. May you never know peace.

PS! Thanks to Crystal for sharing the link to the POZ blog story!