Technically, you might call this Duck Hunt tattoo a “tramp stamp,” but that’s a bit harsh considering I have no evidence that this young lady is, indeed… a tramp.
I can only extrapolate that she hasn’t been blessed with overwhelming powers of forethought or common sense. But a tramp? Who can tell.
Personally, I don’t need grass growing out of my crack or a dog–or any other animal, for that matter–permanently laughing at any of the business going on down in that region. But that’s just me and my forethought.