A good portion of my female friends have all either a) Told me that they think tattoos are hot, or b) Have tattoos themselves (and think they're hot).

It probably has less to do with me being scared sh!tless of the needles, than the fact that knowing how I am, I'd want to get something that shows my personality.  But I'm an ADD kid, and after 20 minutes of laughing at it, I'd say "Sweet, now take it off."

And it don't work that way. 

Tattoos are (almost) forever, and they're a constant reminder of the choices you've made in life.

So with that in mind Ladies, I present:

GUYS YOU PROBABLY SHOULDN'T BE DATING

Picture it...He went into the tattoo parlor and said "I need a tattoo that incorporates all of my loves: Surfing, Weed, Rock & Roll, God, and Bowser from Super Mario Bros."  Where in all of those things does he have time for your needs?

There are very few moments in a man's life that should qualify for ink status.  Joining the Military, Birth of a child, Death of a loved one.  At no point should seeing your first Wrestlemania ladder match qualify as one of those events.  If this guy takes you back to "his place," you'll have to "excuse him" because he's "between places" right now and living in his Mom's basement "temporarily."  He also over-uses air-quotes.

This will be the guy who you've told all your friends is really sweet and funny and cool and creative.  And sure, he may smoke a little pot once in a while, but who hasn't, right?  And then you'll give them that weird warning of "If he asks to borrow money from you, don't give it to him."  And all your friends look at you like you've lost your damn mind.   Which you have.  Because he cares more about the weed than he does you.  Only you're the only one who doesn't see it.

Most likely, you'll meet Mr. Cool Ice on the internet.  He'll only post headshots because the rest of him looks retarded.  When he comes to pick you up, driving his sweet rebuilt Corvette (where the insides smell like armpits), he'll be wearing long sleeves, but you'll still see the Mr. Cool Ice tats on his hands.  When you finally muster up the courage to ask him about it (at your sweet, sweet Red Lobster dinner), he'll divert attention away from them and talk about his cool job as a bouncer at Choo Choo's.  Then, after 4 Malibu Hurricanes, Mr. Cool Ice has talked you into going back to his place.  You hop in the 'Vette (his words, not mine), he cranks up the Motorhead, and you speed back to his trailer.  He gets through 3 minutes of clumsy foreplay (cuz that what the ladies like - wink), takes off his shirt and reveals all his awesome tattage.  You take a moment to soak it in, and burst out laughing.  Then you have to make an excuse about the Hurricanes....and remembering a text message from earlier that was funny...and you should probably go.

BTW, Mr. Cool Ice is going to tell everyone he nailed you anyway.