73. 73 T. The Brothel. Whatever you want to call us - was the house number of my college abode. Standing 3 stories high, accommodating 8 down-ass bitches + 3 across the street, sitting all pretty on the corner of chaotic festivity & divertissement. Outsiders couldn't last one minute inside without pissing their pants laughing at the hilarious, yet charismatic atmosphere my friends provide. Considering the fact that I am 1 of the 11 of us that were placed in a dorm together freshman year *while COMPLETE strangers* I definitely classify myself as one of the luckiest chicks alive.
Naturally, we had a tattoo parlor take-over party our senior year and got 73 tatted on us all. I have 4 teeny tiny tattoos in all the most discrete spots, so I figured what better unique area than my left Achilles? Roman numerals look dainty, yet bold, piled on top of each other.
So that's my story. And since you're probably wondering, I've had way worse pain than a needle to this spot :-) Enjoy!!
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