A Story About Why We Maybe Don't Tattoo Someone's Name on Our Body

Once upon a time, NJ thought he'd met his one and only and decided to make his maiden voyage down the aisle. As is often the case with those making that first trip down the aisle, he went into it with the romantical notion that he and his young (and I do mean young) bride would be together forever. So sure was he of their everlasting love, he went out and got this:

For those who maybe can't read what the arrow is pointing to, that would be the ex-wife's name. Precious, no? Touching, no? Maybe not the best idea, but his optimism regarding the outcome of his marriage is kind of sweet, no?

As often happens during times of war, his wife's National Guard unit was activated and she had to travel to a foreign land to do whatever the hell it is she does/did for the military. A few months later, when she came home for R&R, she, too, had something on her body (or more accurately, in it):

Knowing a little bit about how babies are made and knowing that he'd not travelled to the location where she was deployed, he was about eleventy billion percent sure the baby she was cooking in her belly was not his. 

That right there? Was a deal breaker. 

But, as luck would have it, NJ found love again. This time with the beautiful, smart, sweet (I can be sweet, dammit) and talented girl he loved when he was 11. At first, the tattoo didn't bother his new super awesome lady love because she figured we all do stupid shit, but then NJ made the mistake of saying, "Really? Because if you had some dude's name tattooed on you, it would bug the hell out of me and I'd really want you to cover it up." 

From that point on, the tattoo became the bane of his hot-like-a-super-model girlfriend's existence.

Many promises were made to cover it up and many promises were broken. Some of them were legitimate-like when he was sick and said it would probably be a bad idea if he went into a coughing fit while getting his tattoo. Some of them were not so much-like when he said it would hurt really bad even though he has 15 other tattoos. His girlfriend was not pleased with all the excuses and began contemplating how to dispose of his body after she got done hacking him up into tiny little pieces with the knife he bought her.

Sensing his impending death and/or the fact that he had to choose between keeping the tattoo or keeping the crazy hot woman (some might say just crazy which would lead to some getting punched in the liver) he supposedly loved, last evening NJ made his way to the local tattoo parlor and got this:

As it turns out, that whole thing about it hurting reeeaaaalllllyyyy bad wasn't just a lame excuse. At one point, NJ's smart-like-Einstein girlfriend thought he might pass out from the pain and decided to stop taunting him and making the tattoo artist bust out laughing. She felt it was only right since he was finally doing what he promised he would several months ago. Plus, she was kind of worried that he might stroke out right there on the table. And yes, she would've requested the tattoo be completed before he received medical attention.

Now everything is right with the world again and NJ's girlfriend knows he's willing to endure pain so bad it makes him get that metallic taste in his mouth just to prove how much he loves her.

Which may seem petty, but maybe you don't judge until you've been curled up with the man you love and go to give him a little kiss on the chest, only to find you're kissing his ex-wife's name. 

Plus, he started it.

The end.