**Tattoo Insults**: For People Who Have Regrettable Ink

You must have gotten those tattoos as part of a sociology experiment to see how much self-respect you can lose before you hit rock bottom.

If I had to describe your tattoos in a color, it would be the kind of color that's always associated with warning signs and danger, like orange or yellow, mainly because that's what they look like – cautionary, ominous, and just plain bad.

If your tattoos were a sport, they'd be the kind of extreme sport that only a few crazy people participate in, like base jumping or big wave surfing, except instead of being exciting, it's just a bunch of poorly drawn ink on your body.

If I had to describe your tattoos in a texture, it would be the kind of rough, sandpapery feel that you get when you rub against a cactus, mainly because that's what they look like – prickly, uncomfortable, and just plain bad for you.

You must have gotten your tattoos from a magical genie who granted you three wishes, and your third wish was for a bunch of tattoos that you would later regret.

Your tattoos are like a time capsule, a snapshot of all the worst decisions you made during your early twenties, preserved forever in ink.

It looks like you decided to use your body as a notebook, jotting down every bad idea that came into your head, and then deciding to make them permanent.

It looks like you hired a tattoo artist who specializes in abstract art, or possibly just abstract concepts, like the idea of good taste.

If your tattoos could be expressed as a mathematical equation, it would be 'Regret + Poor Life Choices = A Lot of Ink'.

Your tattoos are like the warnings on a pack of cigarettes – a cautionary tale about the dangers of acting on impulse.

It's not that your tattoos are bad; it's just that they're so bad, they've crossed over into being good, but only in the sense that a train wreck is fascinating to watch from a safe distance.

Your tattoos are the human embodiment of a browser with too many unnecessary toolbars installed.

I've seen better tattoos on a reject from a bad 90s time capsule, and at least those would be ironic by now.

Your tattoos look like they were drawn by a kindergartener having a temper tantrum.

If I had a dollar for every tattoo you have, I'd have enough money to pay for the laser removal you so desperately need.

I'm not sure what's more impressive, the sheer number of bad decisions you've made or the fact that you managed to fit them all onto your body.

It looks like you got all your tattoos from a 'Tattoos for Dummies' kit and then decided to add your own special flair... of incompetence.

Your tattoo artist must have had a personal vendetta against you, or they were just really, really bad at their job – or both.

Those tattoos aren't going to impress anyone except maybe a blind person who's also deaf and can't smell the desperation emanating from you.

You must have lost a bet to end up with those tattoos, or maybe you just have a really bad lawyer who told you they were a good idea.

I've seen sharper lines on a participation trophy.

What's with all the tattoos? Trying to compensate for something, or just running out of space on your Trapper Keeper?

I'm not saying your tattoos are ugly, but I've seen more aesthetically pleasing arrangements of fungus on a piece of stale bread.

If your tattoos are supposed to make you look tough, they're failing miserably, because all they're doing is making you look like a try-hard who can't commit to an actual lifestyle change.

You've got so many tattoos, I'm starting to think you're trying to make a map to help people find their way out of your dumpster fire of a life.

I've seen better artwork on a fridge, and at least those are made by actual children.