This pic was taken back in early 95. I had just moved to SJ to work for a shop called Tattoos-R-Us (yup). This is where I met Paco who had been already been working there for, I think, four or five months. The man in the middle? That’s Little G. For those who know, the guy needs no introduction. But if ya dont… Little G was the craziest mother fucker I ever had the pleasure of meeting, and I’m afraid to mention why. Think I’ll leave it at that for now.
Ah well, its past 3am and it doesnt look like I am going to be doing much sleeping tonight. Why dont we have Lil’ G story time.G was a ronin biker (stories abound) who somehow ended up “owning” a tattoo shop (more stories).
He had notorious whips. One of them had bull horns attached to the front of the forks. G would ride around town on this thing with a chrome Nazi helmet and a swazi tshirt on.
One day he’s mashin’ around the city as the Nazi bull rider and some citizen was unlucky enough to decide and cross the street in his path. Of course G gooses it and runs the guy over. In the process the citizen gets impaled on the bull horns and the bike is dumped.
G is upset (bad thing). His ride just got wrecked and he cant manage to yank the screaming Joe off his bike. Probably because a bull horn is lodged in the guy's thigh bone. So G starts yelling at the guy, telling him to “quit fuckin’ screamin’, you’re still alive”.
Of course the cops arrive on the scene. One car carrying two officers who both happen to be (for lack of a better term) African American.
Oh, did I fail to mention? The guy screaming and bleeding on the ground with a Texas Longhorn in is leg is also… African American.
G is standing there in the middle of the street wearing chrome a Nazi helmet (yes with the spike on top) and a tshirt of equal proportion. Needless to say, he didnt bother with explanations.
Take a look at the picture of him again. Now imagine him in bad shape lying in a hospital bed, the result of a lot of blunt trauma.
Now, G didnt like hospitals. So as soon as he can stand he skips the joint and walks all the way back to the tattoo shop… in his hospital gown.
In walks a battered G and… this story goes on, and on, and on. I think its safe to assume you got the gist.
Rest in Peace boss.
No comments:
Post a Comment