Dear Dreary.
Please help! I have been a self-employed tattoo artist for 30 years, but my thriving business is suddenly in grave danger of collapsing and i don't know what to do. I suddenly seem to have become dyslexic and the more i worry the worse it gets. I now dread a customer asking for written tattoo. Funny thing is, the rest of the time i don't have a problem. It all started a few weeks ago when a young lady asked me to tattoo the name Colin across the bottom of her back. To my horror, i realised afterwards that i'd written 'Colon'. She was very upset and refused to pay. A few days later a chap requested 'Sweetpea' on his forearm to celebrate his engagement. He was'nt too happy with 'Sweatpee'. A man then asked for 'Kim' above his buttocks but got 'Rim', and someone else wanted to celebrate the birth of his first daughter Hope. but did'nt feel like celebrating the addition of the words 'My Hole' across his chest. And just yesterday a young bloke came in and told me he was a free
spirit. He suggested some words across the top of his pubic region. What he got was 'Free Spirt'. The final straw came when an American gentleman wanted the word 'Mississippi'. I had to refuse. Please help . My professional reputation is in titters.
Phil la Penn, 'Tattoo You'.

My dear Phil.
To be honest I'm not really in the mood today. I'll probably phone in sick.
Saturday night was my hen night. Third time lucky!
Me and the boys booked a couple of rooms at The Nipple Tassle guest house down Labia Way in Blackpool. We all went in fancy dress.
I went as a woman in the RAF like that nice blonde piece who laddered her tights in the Battle of Britain. My new hubby is a fighter pilot, dashing, handsome and has an old black Labrador called Earl who always watches him take off and land.
Anyway, suffice to say we got terribly tippsy on shots of sherry and cherry b that the rest of the night was a blur. The last thing I remember was a blurred neon sign, Tat.......? and a feint buzzing sound, oh, and a small prick.
Anyway, the next morning I was lead in bed pleasuring myself with a copy of Reach For The Sky. It was only when I went into the bathroom to freshen up that I caught site of it directly above my Vegetable patch.
Cockpit ring any bells????
You bastard.
Love, Dreary. x