My dad's name is Bob. He gave himself a tattoo when he was in the seventh grade (my dad grew up in a pretty "street-savvy" family of brothers, so this fact isn't really that surprising if you've heard his other stories). It's on his upper right arm (he's left-handed) and it says "Bob" with a scroll in front and behind the name. Immediately after giving himself the tattoo, he regretted it and tried to cut into his skin to "bleed out" the ink. Of course, it scabbed over, and once the scab fell away, the tattoo was still there.
Unfortunately, his tattoo didn't really look like "Bob" with scrollwork on either side. Instead, it looked like "2 Bob S," which elicited questions ("What's 2 Bob S?!") from people who saw it over the years. Because of this, he refers to his tattoo as his "mark of stupidity" and is very outspoken to anyone who will listen regarding his disdain for tattoos.
The ironic twist of fate is that every one of his children have multiple tattoos, as well as my mother.
For his 60th birthday (which was last year), we all decided to get "2 Bob S" tattoos in his honor. After all, it has now become our family crest! My brother, Sam, got his first. It took Todd and I a little longer to make it out to the shop, but we finally made it a couple weeks ago (when we had other work done). It was fun to surprise Dad with our new tattoos at Sam's recent college graduation party.
My mom took a photo of all of our "2 Bob S" photos, alongside my dad's very faded original. Even though he said his tattoo was "stupid," you could tell that he really got a kick out of our tribute. Our tattoos were done from an exact tracing of his, and all used the same stencil. Can you see it on his arm?
Foxy, Foxy - Rob Zombie