Spoiler alert, I am probably going to swear a lot in this post. You’ve been warned.
I hate tattoos. I really hate them. I really fucking hate them. My wife has one, but she got it before we met and I immediately taught myself to not be bothered by it. It wasn’t hard for me to do because she’s amazing and I am crazy about her. Crazy enough to barely even see her tattoo. Her tattoo is okay by me. Every other tattoo….
I fucking loathe tattoos. I can’t state that strongly enough. I hate tattoos as much as I hate fascists. I hate tattoos as much as I hate the maga cult. I hate tattoos almost as much as I hate the New York Yankees. That’s a lot of hate.
I mean I really… fucking… hate… tattoos. I really fucking hate tattoos. Are you picking up what I am putting down? I hate them… a lot.
So no, I don’t want a fucking tattoo. No, I am not planning on getting a fucking tattoo. I am not going to scar my skin with a permanent mark that looks like mud that will never, ever wash off. No. Fuck tattoos. I am never getting a fucking tattoo.
My wife’s tattoo is okay by me. Every other tattoo? No fucking way.
Dig it?