Readers share their true stories of terrible tattoos.

Look, I got an impulsive tattoo that reminds me of a woman, and it didn't work out. Insert heckling here.

It wasn't like I thought we'd be together forever. Technically I hadn't even met her face to face yet. We met through her twin sister. The Internet, phone calls and texts were the only way we really got to know one another in the beginning.

It was great. Mentally and emotionally, we both hit it off. She was a dancer, an adult entertainer in Tucson, working her way through college to become an elementary school teacher.

What better way to show a seemingly physical stranger that you care? Get her lips tattooed on you, of course!

We had been talking for only about a few months when I asked her to kiss a piece of paper in her next letter. I met a friend for drinks and a few minutes later I was under the needle.

I admit, I didn't really think this one through 100 percent.

She came to town and stayed with me and my roommates. First night, a drunken fiasco of piano bars and sex. Every minute thereafter was miserable. We didn't get each other, and that was clear to us and anyone in a 10-foot earshot. Think of two completely different peas in a pod of sawdust and gravel. It was that uncomfortable.

So there we were a week later; broken up and back in our respective area codes. We tried to keep in contact for a few months, but really, what's the point?

She moved on, I moved on, and now I'm stuck with some stripper's lips from Tucson on my collarbone.

Got a terrible tattoo tale? Send it our way.