Miss Rules, knoblet...

... drools.

the other day Miss and I were out shopping as usual and a heavily tattooed trader at the market saw her tattoo and she, being a free spirited soul lifted her t shirt to show him her shoulder. Or as I put it, flashed her well filled bra to the guy and much of a very busy market.  

As Miss' bag carrier/pack horse/donkey I could do little beyond look appalled and get told she doesn't give a toss, as is her right. She is far more liberated than i.

Her muscled trader friend was impressed and asked if I had any tattoos and of course I don't. 

But then he suggested I should get one and Miss agreed in her amiable way.  I was not so sure but then got to thinking.

Should I get a tattoo? What should I get. Miss suggested something incriminating for my forehead, ha ha.

in the meantime, a thort came to me. Perhaps as a tester she could write Miss Rules, knoblet drools on my belly in black ink?

It's true and while temporary it would be fun. And she can imagine me furiously scrubbing to remove it before my upcoming beach holiday...  

 See you Friday Miss.

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