The world sucks. (Lawyers too, but don't tell them I said so). Tinfoil hats? No courage, fucking dilettante misanthropes; pins and needles are what all the groovy kids are doing. Step one: beheading. Step 0.97: buy loads of pins. I've used just over 100 and covered a patch on my leg about the size of my palm, not including fingers and thumbs. You may be fatter, and I'd urge you to trust your own judgement on pin density: you're the one who has to live with your armour, let it suit your needs. Suit! Armour! Ha! Oh deary me, one of these days I'll make someone laugh - I will y'know, or I'll diet trying. Step one: beheading. Ick jagged edges, eep scratching. I have dabbled with forms of pin snipping - we all have - and my plump vote plumps for sanding. So many reasons, all too riddled with obviousity; trust me or suffer the consequences. It's time-consuming, so start small, and always bear in mind pin armour won't be to everyone's taste, beliefs, pain threshold.
Congratulations, you are ready to make your first insertion. My dear confused inert devotee, let me take a moment just to tell you that I'm proud of you, Jesus is proud of you, most importantly the lawyers are proud of you. Take the pin and insert the sharp end under your skin, making sure neither to pierce the skin again, as a skin-seamstress might, nor to pierce the flesh like a pin-wielding fiscopath. Neither will harm the overall effect, but will require withdrawal and reinsertion. And pain. I suppose now pain has reared its beautiful head we'd better mention it. Analgesics are right out of the question. Take them and I shun you. Shun shun. If you're putting pins under your skin, you must do so with tacit knowledge of the pain and suffering that your forebears had to go through. These are the rules by which you must live. Shunning is the other option. Shun shunnetty shun shun. Make the choice.
Pray continue. The next one slides in next to it, and the next. Keep it neat and you'll be amply rewarded in whatever battle you're preparing for. Don't get too excited and go at it like a porcelain junkie in a china shop, oh no no, be careful oh impetuous one, for if you are to insert pins all around your leg you are liable to sever your skin. Baggy socks are bad enough; imagine what it's like with your skin dangling around your ankles. You're not imagining you lazy retard. Go on, close your eyes if you need no visual stimulus to be able to think. Think. See? Not nice is it? Just do the front half for now, however in practice I think you'll find the bleeding adds up and you can only do a small patch at a time.
"Razor blades, razor blades," cry fools who haven't thought things through. "Why don't you use razor blades instead of pins?" I let them continue in hope that they say something else foolish and I can turn and chortle with smug superiority. A few moments of silence stretch and stretch until I realise they're waiting for an answer. Too much blood, I reply, riddled with common sense. Likely to leave a larger weak spot in the heat of battle if one panel fails. The plastic bit that surrounds the blade is too bulky to fit under the skin. Mocked, they return to what they were doing, slightly humbled and the better for it.
We all need an Achilles heel, most of all Achilles who couldn't walk without his (although it gave him a little trouble in later years. ...Make that latest year). Mine is my eyes: I refuse, for reasons of unreasonable squeamishness, to insert pins into the skin that makes up my eyelids. I refuse, for reasons of liking being able to look, to insert pins under my eyeballs. You may wish to avoid the area around your spine, perhaps removing your fingernails and replacing them with pins isn't for you. Maybe you have moral objections to shaving your head (or perhaps more accurately, shaving off your hair) and have flowing locks of hinged pins. Freak. Do what you want. You think I care? Course I don't; I'm safe building my armour.