Increasingly, tattoos are viraling with white people. To my knowledge, sailors were the first subspecies of Caucasians to embrace skin graffiti. Back then, the messages and symbols on these men were simple and kept to a minimum of characters — a body doodling version of contemporary tweeting.
It seems as though Cauc females are fast closing the tat gender gap that exists today. The men still have a commanding lead in devotees and decorated areas, but the women are gaining ground and are decorating themselves in provocatively personal places. I don’t have an inkling when inking gained popularity with the ladies. With one exception, I have not inspected female nakeditity since nature started parting my hair in the middle (BTW: my ‘one exception’ is my incredible wife, who has a clean canvas.).
However, I cannot help but notice the attention-demanding artwork that adorns many women, especially when it is advertised on the visible portion of their ta-tas. I hold sacred the female form in all of its beautifully plain glory. So for me, a woman inking her chest region is as sacrilegious as crayon-coloring a Rembrandt pen-and-ink masterpiece.
Still, I am of course seduced by the vivid colors and erogenous locations chosen by the illustrated vixens. Therefore, it really burns my butt when a sanctimonious temptress, realizing that my laser-gaze is tattooing her tattoos, indignantly scolds, “Hey, asshole, my eyes are up here.”
Word, all my inky sisters: the naked truth is it’s tit for tat when you tat a tit.