Last night, my wife dreamed that she went to get a small tattoo on her forearm: a bust of Mary in a traditional Americana style. The guy she went to said, "I use laughing gas for all my clients, so you'll be out for the tattoo." He showed her the drawing, and it was all wrong: a photorealistic rendering of Mary. So she told him she didn't want that at all, and he fixed the drawing--a little. Then he gave her the gas, and when she came to, he'd tattooed a shitty dragon that went from her forearm, onto her palm, and then--somehow--onto her forehead! She started freaking out, and even the other guys at his shop said, "Dude, that's not cool. Chicks don't get their palms tattooed."