An "o filthy grandeur!" tattoo?

Well, I'm thinking about it. I've always liked the idea of getting a tattoo, but never did. I realized that getting a tattoo when I was young and flighty was probably a bad idea (thankfully I did realize this, since as a teenager I got sick of things at an alarming rate--hell, I was that way even my first couple of years in college). I was afraid of having permanent evidence of something I was no longer interested in. Plus, my fiance always expressed a distaste for tattoos, so rather than argue I stopped thinking about it.

But now I'm really thinking of getting a tattoo, some variation (in font) of "o filthy grandeur!" (My fiance still isn't sold on the idea, but too fucking bad). I'm sort of leaning toward it being written around my wrist (for easy cover-up when necessary). My affinity for Baudelaire has managed to survive my normal flightiness of interests, and my commitment to this blog has been nothing but rewarding. This phrase that has become an encompassing space for a variety of topics has become a phrase I hold dear to me, and I think it would be appropriate to have it written on my body (plus, the poet in me is all "Yeah, poetry on my skin! Wooo!").

Anyway, I'm going to think it over another month or so. I am going to Florida to spend time with my parents in August, and my brother will be there too, so if I do decide to go for it, it'll be then. But I'd appreciate any thoughts. I base a lot of my decisions on what I "feel" like doing at the moment, and often rationalize my choices later. So help me rationalize prior to the "no turning back point."

Update: I chickened out. Don't like pain, and if it turns out bad, there would be more pain...sorry.