I like a guy with tattoo’s but this is a tad over the top ey?


We’ve all seen the video with Lady Gaga prancing around the place half-naked (as usual) screaming out the lyrics that indeed she was “Born This Way.” Shocking. Not.  So I’m sure you’ve seen the bit in the video when she’s pulling around the jaw of poor bloke and skeleton-man appropriately named Zombie Boy.

For those of you who don’t know who Zombie Boy is, here’s a little run down. Twenty-Six year old Rick Genest grew up in a working class family in Chateguay Quebec, and is the oldest of two siblings. Enough of the fairy tale story. Fact of the matter is… Rick is turning himself into a zombie. So far, more than 24 hours of tattoos – costing over £4,075 Canadian – have got him halfway there and made him a minor celebrity on the internet, where people can’t decide if he’s a body modification visionary or mentally ill sicko. I’m not sure which to go for either. His tattoos have equally intrigued and inspired a cult following—more than 30,000 followers on Twitter and 65 groups/ pages to him on Facebook. He has sparked a revolution with fans who see beyond the visceral and want to know everything they can about the mysterious performer, model and muse known as ‘Zombie Boy.’

Apparently his influence for his tattoos is none other than his love for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He wanted to be like one and live in sewers. Don’t think he got the memo-Turtles don’t look like that. “As I got older I fell in love with zombies and wanted to become one. Oh, and I love George A Romero’s Living Dead movies. ” There we go. Explains it. If you love something THAT much you’ll go to the extreme. Right? “The closest thing I could get to becoming a zombie was to get tattooed like one. I see my tattoos as celebrating the art of obscenity and the macabre.” Right..

Zombie Boy got his first tattoo at 16 on his left shoulder, sparking a fascination so deep that it’s passed on to other parts of his body. By 19 he was committed to his full body tattoo project and stayed loyal to Montreal artist Frank Lewis, who designed the majority of his body over the next six years. Eighty percent of his body is covered, including intricate designs of an entire skeleton (skull included) and is thematically, the depiction of a body decomposing—complete with flesh eating insects. To date Genest has spent over $17,000.00 on tattooing his body and will continue until his tapestry is finished.

Zombie Boy plans to get more tattoos. In his frank interview with tattoo magazine Bizarre, he says “I still want to get my brain shaded in. I want to get it all nice and grey like hamburger meat. And then I want to get Frankenstein bolts sticking out of my head around the rim of where my scalp’s ‘cut off’. And I’ve thought about getting my eyes blacked in. I’m thinking that in five years from now, if no one’s gone blind from it by then I’ll go and get my eyes tattooed black, so there’d just be big holes in my face. As for tattoos, I’ve still got to get under my arms done, then I’ve got to finish the intestines and get a contour added to the demon on my chest. I’m going to get bones sticking out of my knees, my toes done in skeleton print, and have patches of muscle scattered around – with worms coming out of the wounds.” Gross! That’s not all. He plans to do some other rather gross things too which for you guys be thankful I’m not writing up here.

Since becoming an international hit, he’s appeared in catwalks and shows with his new best pal Lady Gaga and in the Spring 2011 he was awarded the Guinness World Book of Records for the most insects tattooed on a human body (178) as well as the most bones inked on a human body (138), and he then returned to his local Tattoo artist Lewis to additions to his live walking art project.  Most recently Genest is unrecognisable in the new DermaBlend advert in which he promotes the brands concealer and make-up remover. He’s seen in the video being totally tattoo free. If you haven’t seen the video check it out here:

The video called “How do you judge a book?” shows Genest un-tattooed and bared all in the buff. The Canadian model is covered in skeletal tattoos that make his body resemble a decomposing corpse, and all is revealed as he begins to wipe away the DermaBlend concealer with the brand’s make-up remover. Named as the number one dermatologist recommended coverage brand, DermaBlend’s product certainly does what it says on the tin as at the beginning of the short clip, there is not a trace of Genest’s permanent body ink. The unusual video, which is almost three minutes long, is sped up to show a team of make-up artists removing the product from his arms, face and body to finally reveal the full extent of his Zombie body art.

I don’t know about you boys and girls but the whole over-the-top tattoo thing is a tad freaky! What do you think? Body art or body scare?

The Fallen


I’ve promised the world and my mother that I would do the good and stop smoking. You’ve seen my previous post where I promised and commited myself to give up the tobacco for good to invest in a newer, healthier me. To save all that money usually spent on the fags for something much more worthwhile and something I could keep that isn’t a memory of coughing, hacking and feeling sickly after chain-smoking the night/day before.

Oh how I’ve fallen.

I’d love to jump around with a spring in my step screaming from the roof-tops, that I, Danielle Moon have kicked-in that stinky unhealthy habit and been able to keep up that non smoking. But that would be a lie. Instead I did very well for a whole week (weekends included) until that party. That party changed it all. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know it was going to happen. It always does, well for me anyway. Two weeks ago Saturday I was invited to a friend’s party at the local. It was only supposed to be a few drinks and then offskies but it wasn’t. It really wasn’t. It was going to be one of those nights, where alcohol encourages you to sing kareoke (when you wouldn’t dream of doing so ever before), puts you in some weird dancing mood that makes you dance like a crazy emo-pocessed teenager to an irish love song and lets you drivel on in a conversation that lacks anything good to say to some poor sod you’ve decided to bore at the bar. I had rushed into the pub utterly convinced I would never smoke, coz I’m oh-so-cool, I’ll be able to keep this up. It was fine for like an hour. Until my friend screamed from across the bar he wanted to chat but this could only involve sitting outside in the beer garden trying to breathe in the cloud of smoke. And here is where it went wrong. I could smell it and it wasn’t a nice smell. Not only could you smell the burning cigarette hanging from his mouth but also the smell off his clothes clinging to him like a baby chimp to its mother. He offered me one. I turned my nose up to it but feeling the urge I gave in and said “Oh go on then.” Seriously, where in my mind was I thinking that would make everything better. The taste was rank. Seriously rank. It felt like I licked the inside of an ashtrash. Friggin minging. The stupid thing was I continued after each puff forcing myself to smoke more but enjoying the next pull more and more after (it’s known I am weird). By the end of my 3rd drink of the night I had in fact bought a ten pack of mayfair and smoked my way through 6 whole cigarettes. I kept blaming the alcohol for my giving in. Hoping that the next day when alcohol consumption had ceased I would be able to step away from the fags and be smoke free. But I wasn’t.

Sunday proved to be a nightmare. At home, staying with my mum I don’t smoke. I would be killed by my own mother if I attempted to light up in the surroundings of my mother’s house. I’ve never done it nor would I ever dream to think of it. I had agreed to make lunch for family and on way to ASDA in the morning was fine until I met some friends who all puffed away happily on their fags smiling and looking super-cool. So I started smoking again. I’ve since smoked roughly 4-6 cigarettes a day and probably triple that when alcohol has been involved over the weekends. Something which I’m not proud about. AT ALL.

The worst of it all is I still don’t like it. As much as I hate, and I mean HATE it, I still do it. There’s a part of me that seriously is weird where I think it’s kinda cool to have a fag in my hand. The sort of cool that has graced the likes of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s and James Dean in the movie Rebel Without a Cause. Except I look stupid. I’ve not smoked that long and it’s a foul foul foul habit but the younger self claims it’s cool, whilst the older self claims its not. Maybe I should take inspiration from Dean’s movie’s tag line and have this poster above my bed:

Because that’s what can happen. I won’t look cool then. So I’m going to try again and this time I really really need all of your help. I will tell you my reasons non smokers out there and you’ll agree but you must must must help me.

The reasons for wanting to quit in the first place:

They smell bad

They smell as bad or worse than the waste in the bin outside. Cigarettes stink. Really stink and they make you smell. That sickly stale cigarette odour that is like a haze formed around our being. If you’re not a smoker you can smell it on us. If like me, you have stopped for a while and not smoked. You start to notice how other people smell of the rank fume. The haze of smoke around them stands out and makes you fell sickly. No matter how groomed or how much you have spritzed yourself with a tonne of perfume or aftershave you can’t escape the powerful stench of cigarette smoke.

They pollute the earth

What do you do when you put your cigarette out? Escaping the glare of every non-smoker and shying away from the ol’ bill (for fining you if you litter the street), they create mess. An fugly sort of mess overtaking our London streets the same as different colours of chewing/bubble gum.

I’m asthmatic

That alone should be a reason to quit. Through my youth I thought smoking was rank. I didn’t start till I was at least 18. I never had asthma when I was a child and now I do. Granted I’m not wheezing everyday and relying on tonnes of medication to keep me breathing but my health alone should be enough to kick me up my own backside and stop me doing it. I think my mum’s right when she says asthmatics who smoke shouldn’t complain the NHS don’t do enough to help. Pack in the fags and get healthy.

They’re unsocial

If you’re off to the pub/bar/nightclub with your mates (who most of them don’t smoke) and it’s shite weather outside, you look like a complete loser shivering outside. It’s a known fact. Plenty of times I’ve stood outside by myself looking uncool. Be honest I’m sure some of you have too. Plus it’s really unsocial to blow out a big cloud of smoke into your friend’s faces. As they cough and breathe in your fumes when they say they don’t mind. It’s bullshit. They do.

I don’t want to end up like Edina Monsoon in Ab Fab

The smoking part of Eddie not the drug pushing and alcoholic raver that she is. I don’t want to be an oldie with a taste for fags and walking round puffing away depending on cigarettes as if it were the last thing to do on earth. It’s not going to happen.

So here’s my thing, my note and urge for help. Help me all to stop puffing away and make me healthy again. I want to run for the bus without stopping half way and nearly passing out.  I want to not smell of smoke and miss out of vital bits on convo with mates for stepping out for a fag on a night out. I want to be smoke free.