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The DOs And DON’Ts Of Getting A Tattoo

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Regardless of sex, let me start by saying the best advice regarding tattoos is this: If you’re thinking of getting one, just don’t. A tattoo is not an idiotically expensive car you can sell in a pinch, a foster child you realize is better suited for Social Services, nor a formal dress you ladies can enjoy but keep the tag on for tomorrow. Getting rid of it requires lasers, immense pain, money, and repeated treatment.

But if you’re a guy insistent on emulating the skin “art” of your favorite NBA players, a girl looking to satisfy the niche “suicide girl” fetish, or you’re just a moron, here is the best, and worst, tattoo locations and designs:


DO: Not get a tattoo. Sorry had to say it one more time. BUT if you must:

DO NOT: Go with anything “tribal” unless your ancestors (the more recent the better) wore feathers on their heads.

DO: Choose a location fully coverable by a standard button down. Maintaining the possibility of professionalism in the office (there is still a widespread stigma regarding tattoos, especially amongst the generation that likely be your boss’s boss).

DO NOT: Get a leg tattoo of any kind. The ankle is okay for women, but you’ll either look like you sharted out the leg of your shorts or you live in a doublewide down by the river. Probably both.

DO: Avoid the lower back at all costs. Unless your intention is to post a permanent sign on your body effectively saying “insert here” with an arrow to your asshole.

DO NOT: Get a song lyric from any modern country song. Please. Write it down and keep it in your wallet if it means so much to you. Do not have a Luke Bryan quote branding you forever.

DO: Commemorate military service. This is by far the classiest and most badass tattoo a man can have. Go for the upper arm.

DO NOT: Get a portrait of anyone on you. Seriously. You’ll end up with a permanent disaster more reminiscent of a Simpsons character than your deceased relative or wife. Pictures will suffice. I beg of you.

DO NOT: Get a woman’s name tattooed on your body unless you’re willing to bet your entire future on her, or you have a guy that can correct tattooing a thief’s name on your body, like Johnny Depp’s “Wino Forever” gem.

DO NOT: Get anything on your neck or face unless you are a rapper or suicidal.

DO: Get something commemorating the United States — a small flag or line from the Constitution at least negates the stupidity of the tat with the rampant patriotism.

DO NOT: Use colors, of any kind. You do not want to look like your little sister took a Crayola box to your body. Channel your inner Kardashian: black only.

DO NOT: Get anything larger in total surface area than a standard American baseball.


DO: Put a small butterfly or similarly idiotic stamp on the side of either hipbone. This assures us of the sort of adventurous sex we can imagine during the inevitable monotony of fucking the girl we actually end up with.

DO NOT: Defile your breasts or nipples in any way. Please.

DO: Get a small lower back tattoo if you’re looking to always snag a dick at the bar. Even a decade later, Wedding Crasher’s Vince Vaughn was right.

DO NOT: Go with the rib cage tattoo. It is the new “tramp stamp” and unlike the original (which can easily be hidden) the rib cage tat is always visible at the beach, in most non-Nun like tops, and looks terrible half obstructed by bras.

DO: Get a small cross on the inside of your wrist. While this assures us you are not a member of ISIS, it also says “I’m fun but somewhat responsible. Or at least I want you to think that.”

DO NOT: Get a man’s name anywhere near your box unless you’re willing to put all your eggs (literally and figuratively) in that basket forever. No man is marrying the woman with another dude’s name permanently next to her vagina.

DO NOT: Have the word “daddy” anywhere on your person. This, oddly, seems to occur most with women who hate, or have never met, their actual fathers.

DO: Get a star or something similarly idiotic on your ankle or behind the ear to hopefully quell your thirst for “ink” without harming yourself in any serious manner.

DO NOT: Put anything on your body larger than a JFK 50 cent piece, regardless of location.

DO NOT: Go full Miley Cyrus and cover yourself in the aforementioned tiny tats.

DO NOT: Use an Instagram caption as a lifelong addition to your skin. Just put it on Instagram under a picture of you staring downward “candidly.”

DO: Show us your most private tattoo locations in bars, pregames, frat houses, and generally upon request. If you’re willing to let a total stranger brand you there for life, we should at least be able to see.

DO NOT: Have more than three total tattoos for any reason. If you have four siblings die, choose the three you liked the best, if you must.

DO NOT: Get anything visible or offensive enough to cost your eventual husband his career aspirations.

DO NOT: Get tattoos, similarly to the last warning, if you are looking to become the trophy wife of an established man. There has never been a tattooed first lady, and through my research I cannot find a single United States Senator with one.

DO: Understand that your tattoos essentially bind you to freak status in the bedroom. It’s the law, I think.

Enjoy your permanent, eventually wrinkled and sagging reminder of poor decisions of youth responsibly. Or just don’t get one, like the overwhelming majority of successful people that don’t bounce or hit a ball.

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Siblings of Mark Wahlberg

Sorry Mom & Dad. Follow me to prevent my suicide: @SiblingsOfTFM

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