Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Tattoos and tits

When I was young, I was stupid. Not just a little stupid, but STOOPID. Oh I'm not saying I wasn't intelligent, but when it came to love and men.....STOOPID. It probably had something to do with the fact that I was a lesbian and I couldn't figure it out at the time and I latched on to each man who paid attention to me so I could get married and squeeze babies out my vagina like a redneck female was "supposed" to do.

So, I married a guy. He was from "the city", had a fast car, tattoos and I thought he was cool. We got married a month after we started dating.

*blink*

Yes, I said 1 month. Don't be hatin, I said I was stupid. Then I topped my stupidity and got his name tattooed on my left tit. Yes, the stupid flowed like wine. I drank that wine, yes I did and then I threw up all over my shoes.

I later got the tattooed covered with the only thing that would cover it at the time. A tribal shark. It was cool when I picked it out. Not so much anymore. Since that time I've gained weight and had another baby so it's more like a stretched out deformed dolphin than a shark. Hindsight ya know.

For some reason Molly loves the shark. When we are in the shower or I'm changing clothes she always has to look at it and it poke it with her finger. Yesterday was no exception. I don't wear a bra when I'm at home because I like to be comfortable. You could just take a look at my ass imprint in the sofa and know just how much comfort I have. I was sitting on the sofa, Molly was in my lap and she tugged on my shirt and said "I wanna look at shark", so I yanked up my shirt so she could look at it and poke it with her finger for the millionth time.

Only something happened. As I was watching the Olympics and letting her poke at the shark this white hot pain shot through my tit and it was as if lightening had traveled through my body. I damn near peed on myself and almost threw Molly across the room. Why she decided to pinch the ever living shit out of my nipple remains a mystery, but I guarantee one thing. The next time she wants to look at it I'm wearing cast iron pasties.


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