The Oldie: The Tattooist's Tale
 

Bill, Bazza and Peter Wyton were just short of the money, but Jerome Betts (oh praise him!) won £20 for four trenchant lines, which just shows you that size isn't everything. And here is this month's offering.

COMPETITION NO 129
When Oliver Pritchett set off down the Old Kent Road some years ago for a summer series on the way to Canterbury, he began with 'The Tattooist's Tale'. Please provide your own version. in verse or prose.
Maximum 16 lines or 150 words.

In my opinion your tale in verse does not have to follow Chaucer's usual practise of rhyming couplets of pentameter. After all, Chaucer didn't.
Entries to 'Competition No 129' by post (The Oldie, 65 Newman Street, London WIT 3EG),or email (comps@theoldie.co.uk) by 24 September..

Thanks for the trenchant accolade, John, but the tea-set still eludes us. Interesting to discover the Oldie at least will shell out for short measure. I had set my hopes no higher than a mention. Nice if it was all paid at £5 a line.

Bazza got a tea-set. I WILL have one. I once won a case of Cobra beer from the Speccie and I once won a bottle of excellent Scotch from the Oldie. Happy days!

I never quite got the beer but I won the excellent Scotch from The Oldie TWICE - in a wooden box with a sliding lid, like a large version of those pencil cases we used to have as kids.
But ah! - we all crave the elusive tea-set... (and, while we're at it, I would sell my very soul for a Countdown teapot.)

Well done, Jerome. Nice one :)

needlework
 

The Tattooist's Tale

Mine is a narrative of woe,
Of how the mighty are brought low,
Descending from renown to shame
Through ego and the lust for fame.
I started young in Potters Bar,
But fast became a West End star
Who worked on Robbie Williams' pecs,
Was shortlisted for Posh and Becks
And – such was my hubristic hope –
In line to decorate the Pope.
Alas, I wrote, while inking in
Some love words on Madonna's skin
(The ghastly memory recurs
Like pain) my squeeze's name, not hers.
So now I only needle losers:
Druggies, dossers, no-marks, boozers.


(Many years ago I decided on impulse to get a tattoo but was sent away for being drunk. Phew.)

I don't really see how there could be half a dozen better than that, Bazza. You will surely win again.

Neverthless I shall try it. I suppose Chaucer would hardly have written in limericks.

The Tattooist’s Tale

When the ships are in port then the crews
Spend night after night on the booze,
And when well off their faces
They seek out the places
Where fellows like me do tattoos.

If they come with the cash I tattooes ‘em –
Naked ladies with acres of bosom,
Cute callipygous dames,
But as to their names?
I suggest it’s much better to lose ‘em.

On my life, said a wife once, ‘God rot ‘em all!’
When she spied ‘em inscribed on his bottom, all
The names of the tail he’
-d been rogering daily.
She took a revolver and shot ‘em all

It is years since I tried the Oldie. I did once win a bottle of whisky, but I suspect that this possible entry reflects my total lack of interest in teasets.

Tailpiece

I’m tattooed with the names of the women I’ve loved
And my whole epidermis is covered
Except for the last private inch of my flesh
Which has been so exhaustively lovered.

You tell me, sweet Stephanie Fortescue-french
That your name would not fit on this site
Since the space would not stretch to the requisite length.
But I think, at my best, it just might.

Yes, Bazza's out in front as usual. Should be a good subject but somehow . . . Wonder what R.P. Lister would have made of it? Thought, pace John, I'd try a sort of shambling sub-
Chaucerian pentameter but not sure I'll enter the results.

Edited out -new version posted 12 Sept.

The clincher.
 

Love this, Jerome, like especially:

"Then further down, in regions known as ‘nether’,
Depict crude scenes referring to the weather,"

The mind boggles as to what that could possibly mean!

But the last couplet is too prosaic, not the clincher you need.