Had another side-by-side with B. today. Pretty much a routine deep-tissue massage, with B. massaging the marathon-running wife, while I massaged the very tall, muscular hubby.
As I was massaging Randy's hamstrings and glutes, I noticed B. practically jumping up and down on the other side of the room. She was massaging Jessica's calf, but was pointing at her (Jessica's) ass with her other hand, while trying not to laugh out loud. It was very dark in the room, but as I squinted carefully, I could just make out a lovely calligraphic tattoo on Jessica's right glute.
Why not break out the branding iron, and do it right?
Then any time you hear bacon sizzling on the griddle, or smell pork ribs grilling on the barbecue, you'll be reminded how much you LUV your spouse. I mean, he OWNS your ass, right?
Surprisingly enough, I didn't see a tattoo on Randy's body proclaiming it Jessica's property, but then again, I didn't get to see EVERY body part, after all...