We Cheese Eaters take our motorsport enthusiasm seriously and we never choose the easy path. We favor unusual and difficult to love cars. But our enthusiasm has always been about the car, not ourselves. We've decided we're not a team. Not really. We're more like a tribe. What better way of showing tribal membership than enduring a rite of passage? I'm not talking about getting naked, painting ourselves with mud and chicken feathers and dancing around a bonfire (though that does sound like fun) until we feel one with the Universe. We went for simple and direct. Bret, Scott and I all got tattoos yesterday. And not just any tattoo, but the nerdiest kind possible. The three of us now proudly bear the periodic table symbol for lead on our right feet.
Bret, brave man that he is, went first.
Apparently, getting a tattoo tastes like lemons. How ironically appropriate!
...and the results are in.
Scott is stoically awaiting his turn in the chair.
The look on his face and the fact he only has one butt cheek on the bench tells me that everything is fine and I have nothing to fear.
My turn! Yay!
Feels so good, I think I'll go have some teeth drilled next!
Nerd core all the way!!
Bret, brave man that he is, went first.
Apparently, getting a tattoo tastes like lemons. How ironically appropriate!
...and the results are in.
Scott is stoically awaiting his turn in the chair.
The look on his face and the fact he only has one butt cheek on the bench tells me that everything is fine and I have nothing to fear.
My turn! Yay!
Feels so good, I think I'll go have some teeth drilled next!
Nerd core all the way!!
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