求助啊！求5篇6年级英语作文，其中2篇过去式！

求助啊！求5篇6年级英语作文，其中2篇过去式！

My Busy Day>

Here begins the tale of my day of many mods. I am going to withhold the names and location of where I got my work done, since the Midwest is conservative, and the city where I got my work done has outlawed scarification, and I don't want to get anyone who helped me to get into any trouble for a good deed they did.
I don't claim to be any less crazy than any of you who submit to this site (not that I'm passing judgment), and my times of turmoil have had their effect on me. At one of my craziest times, about a year ago, I went through a cutting phase and did about 50 cuts with razor blades, obviously not the smartest thing to do. From that exposition, the most prominent scars were two large ones on my upper arms. They are approximately eight inches long and between 1/4" to 1/2" thick. I wanted to take control of them and turn them into something beautiful, and not let them have control over me. I don't want them to be a reminder of how crazy I can be; I want them to be a reminder, a beacon of how I am in control of my body, my actions, and my life.

I worked at a piercing/tattoo parlor and I was moving, so I needed to have all of my work done before I left. I was adding to the scars on my arms, branding around the scar on my right arm, and scalpeling around the scar on my left arm, getting my guiche pierced, and finishing a large tattoo on my right thigh.

The day of my mods, I was very excited, nervous, and a bit scared. I made sure to eat plenty of food for lunch; I knew I was in for a long day. My one concern was that, since I was moving, I had gone out with a friend the night before, and was a bit hung over. But I was going to stop because of that. I got to the shop a little after 4.

I was having two different piercers do the cutting and burning, so as I entered the piercing room, they followed me in. After we got done talking about my impending move and work about to be done, they began to mark the spots on my arms, draw up sketches for reference, and see how my skin moves so that the scars would heal evenly, and not bulge out in spots. We also put some topical anesthetic on my right arm, because, hey, I had never been burned before, and I wasn't sure how bad it was going to hurt.

I was getting the cutting done first, and after the lines were marked, we locked the door and got to work. I was getting six lines cut in all, and I was anxious to get to it. The first line was good, I have some masochistic tendencies, and I've always been a fan of how cuts feel. "The old familiar sting," to quote NIN, felt superb. We used four scalpels all together, I think and each cut felt better and better. I could feel my skin open up, and it was wonderful. There was a lot of blood, and we got some good pictures of me with my piercer. We did a pressing of the cuts, so I have the shape of them in a blood outline that I still have yet to frame. They now look really good, I just need to get the bottom cut gone over again a little deeper, because we went over it tentatively because it was the first cut. I am really pleased with how it turned out.

After that I went out and had a cigarette, I needed to relax a little. I wasn't in pain, I was just too excited and my adrenaline and endorphins had me bouncing off the walls. I went back in and it was time to get my guiche done. I wasn't at all worried about getting that done, I had it done before, so I knew what to expect. It wasn't healing well the first time I had it done, so I took it out, and I had the jewelry sterilized so I could try it again, hopefully with better luck this time. The jewelry is a sweet 6-gauge 5/8" diameter pink titanium circular barbell. I took off my pants, lied on the table, spread my legs and had the piercing done. Something that has consistently surprised me has been how little genital piercings hurt, well, at least all of them other than my apadravya. To report on how my guiche is doing: sadly enough, it fell out last week. I went to take a piss, and lo and behold, the fucker was gone. I guess I'm just not supposed to have a guiche piercing. < p> After another cigarette and a can of Coke, I was back in the room. I felt stoked cause I was halfway done with my list of stuff for the day. The anesthetic had started to work, which was good, because it was time for the branding. I was doing six curved lines around this scar, and we had only one cautery pen, so I hoped things proceeded well. The piercer who had done my cutting warned me that the pen might not hold up for the entire length of what we needed. This branding would be done by the pierced who had just done my guiche. I lied back on the table, and it was time to begin. The anesthetic helped a bit, but there were some parts where I could definitely feel the searing of my skin. It was pretty intense, but once I focused my thoughts, the tingle felt almost good. The stench, however, was horrible. We had the windows open and some incense burning, but damn. The smell of burning flesh was permeating everywhere. And all of a sudden, mid-line, then pen burned out. The othe r piercer was like "told you so." So, the piercer told me to come back in about three months to get it finished. We left the room and then stunk up the whole studio. The place smelled like a crematorium. The smell of singed flesh and hair was thick in the air, and since it was a Friday night, it was busy in the shop, and many of the patrons had a disgusted look on their faces. It scabbed really well, much to the delight of my girlfriend. Apparently she's a huge fan of scabs, and was begging me every day to let her pick them off. All the scabs are off now, and they look really good. Just another two months and I can get it finished.

After yet another cig break and some food and pop to keep my blood sugar up, it was time to get tattooed. I had about two hours ahead of me. I don't remember exactly how much time it took, by that point I was fairly worn down. I sat for that, and it turned out really well. It's a large Ganesh piece on my right thigh. I love that tattoo so much.

So after my long day, I was fuckin' beat. I had been cut, pierced, branded, and tattooed. I felt tired and weary. Another unfortunate thing was that since I was moving, I had a going away party to go to that night. I was so tired and weary. And then I didn't even get to leave the party and get to bed until after 7am. Then I woke up at 3pm the next day and dropped acid with a friend of mine. So it was a great way to finish my stay in the city. And my body was, amazingly enough, able to withstand it all.