Lie #1: Helena Hann-Basquiat and the Tattoo of Parental Perturbation

Yesterday, I posted a series of six stories, five of which are fabrications, or, at least, not completely true in one way or the other — and ONE story is absolutely true.

Over the next few days I will reveal the truth about the lies.

Lie #1: Helena Hann-Basquiat and the Tattoo of Parental Perturbation

English: McDonalds' sign in Harlem.

English: McDonalds’ sign in Harlem. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My parents, if you’ve read my sordid tale, are complete couche-tards (again, what are you doing here if you don’t know what a couche-tard is?) and when I was just seventeen (you know what I mean) I got into a giant fight with my father, who was giving me a hard time about the way I was dressed, and he had gone so far as to call me a whore. Well, I went right out and got me a tattoo right above my ass (where one would normally get what is so charmingly referred to as a “tramp stamp”) that reads OVER TEN BILLION SERVED in a very pretty script. Not long after my father saw it, I moved away to Halesowen, England to follow some boy I’d become enamoured with. (You can read all about that here)

The truth: No, I didn’t get the tattoo — though that would have pissed dad off something fierce. I did run away to England, so there’s that. And now you know my sneaky trick — that I may have mixed in some truth with the lies to throw you off the scent.  I stole the tattoo part of this story from a girl I knew in high school who was somewhat less than mentally stable. When she had that fight with her father, instead of going out and getting a tattoo, she caved the word WHORE into her chest. Poor girl. For some reason, carving words into one’s flesh was the way of acting out when I was a teenager.  Sorry Perry, I know you were looking forward to a shot of me in my Calvins, but that will have to wait for another occasion, darling.

6 responses to “Lie #1: Helena Hann-Basquiat and the Tattoo of Parental Perturbation

  1. Pingback: YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!! | Being the Memoirs of Helena Hann-Basquiat, Dilettante.·

  2. Woah woah woah that is sad and crazy about the girl at your school… I hope she eventually got some help for that. We have patients who do similar things– carving words on themselves; very sad and OUCH.

    The best lies mix in a bit of truth, don’t they? Can’t wait to hear the next one…

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