you remind me of home

Alright. What the fuck, Brendon Urie?

No, really. What the fuck is it? You can't get a tattoo and then tease us with it by magically hiding half your arm all fucking night long. That's not the way it's suppose to work.

For those of you who don't know (i.e., have been living under a rock and/or are not crazy internet trolls like myself), Urie's gotten inked. Possibly for his birthday. Possibly because he's lost his mind.

He debuted the little bugger at the grand opening of The Pearl at Palms Resort Casino where Brendon, Ryan and a few other local musicians showed up on the red carpet (because you boys are oh-so-famous now, aren't you? Hahahahaha).





And despite the rabid paparazzi - alright, who probably had better things to do than snap photos of b-list musicians - no one managed to get a good shot of it. You can kind of see it in the the photos above cautiously peeking out over the side of his left arm. Right there. See it? Kinda? No?

Let me blow it up and draw you a big red arrow.



Yeah. Yeah. I have no idea what that is. You have no idea what that is. Nobody has any idea what that is.

It kind of looks like it might be a hand grenade, or an armadillo, or I dunno... maybe fucking L'Ananas from Téléfrançais (huge virtual cookies if you have any idea what I'm taking about). Apparently some rather insistent girls over at patd swear up and down that it's piano keys and that I absolutely ~must believe them because they ~know. Well, it doesn't really look like piano keys to me but, hey, why the hell not?

It's not like it really looks like anything else either.

All I know for sure is that he had it done by Tattoo Syndicate. They have a picture of it on their MySpace - which I've helpfully stolen to show you here:



Ignore the pervy shirt he's got on. Ignore the big burly guy with tattoo sleeves. Concentrate on the look on Brendon's face that says "I have no idea how much pain I'm in for!" or possibly "I'm a big douche who thinks this is actually a good idea!!"

Now, don't get me wrong. Brendon, dear, I love you. I just don't get how you thought you were going to pull this off. The very idea of you with a tattoo sends me into bigger giggle fits than hearing Kevin Federline considers himself to be a "real artist". It's like putting war paint on a toddler; it's a little bit of adorable on the side of a whole plate full of ridiculous.

I pretty much think the only thing that could make this any better for me (read: more absurd) is if little Ryan Ross has gotten one to match ;)