Tattoos work good when the involve Unicorns. It's actually, kinda hard to screw up a Unicorn Tattoo because they just breath life in all things.
Unicorns, however, can't be forced. When you do so, you end up with nothing more than a bad Molly Shannon movie and some cut throat Gewn Steffani dancers. Go figure. Opps, did I say "cut throat"? I meant "Cut Rate."
Every once in a while I'll hear tell a story of a family that grew up with Unicorns. Usually it's from a homeless junkie on Sunset who's sells her ass on the corner and blames her "liberal" parents for all her problems. The guys are even worse, but they more often than not, don't share the tale of the Unicorn.
Once in a while you find a crazy guy, who seemingly get's all the chicks (don't bet on it) who's all wrapped up in the "Lore of the Unicorn." These guys are loud to boast but can't even operate a common kitchen toaster. They eat their bread dipped in milk.
And sometimes, you'll find a small town or church that embraces the Unicorn. These are common in the areas of the country where women still ride horses (the men all drive Fords). Once the city moves in and paves over the grass, everything stops and Joni Mitchell starts singing... someone get the Cheese cause this place is filling up with Wine.
Might as well start your week off with a heavy heaping of Unicorns. Nothing says, "I'm ready to take on the week" like a testosterone fueled Unicorn horn.