100 Strangers Let a Counting Rhyme Pick Their Tattoos Forever — The Results Are Chaotic, Beautiful, and Slightly Unhinged
Here at Eenyakee, we believe deeply — spiritually, even — in the transformative power of letting go. Letting go of overthinking. Letting go of spreadsheets. Letting go of the illusion that you, a person who once spent 45 minutes choosing a Netflix show before giving up and rewatching The Office, are actually capable of making good decisions on your own.
So naturally, we asked 100 people to let Eeny Meeny Miny Moe choose their next tattoo.
Permanently. On their body. Forever.
We are not sorry.
The Setup (A.K.A. The Part Where We Explain This Was Somewhat Scientific)
Here's how it worked: participants submitted a list of four tattoo options they were genuinely considering — real choices, not throwaway ones. We're talking designs they'd actually been mulling over, debating, maybe even bookmarking on Pinterest for three years without committing. Then, in front of a witness (because accountability is hot), they chanted the rhyme out loud, landed on a finger, and that was their answer.
No backsies. No "okay but what if I just—" No loopholes.
We partnered with tattoo artists across six cities — Austin, Chicago, Atlanta, Portland, Denver, and Brooklyn, because of course Brooklyn — and documented everything. The excitement, the dread, the weird middle zone that is somehow both at once.
Of our 100 participants, 73% went through with the rhyme-chosen tattoo. The remaining 27% technically chickened out, but honestly, that number is impressive in the other direction. Nearly three-quarters of people trusted a nursery rhyme with their skin. America is doing fine.
The Glorious Ones: Stories That Restored Our Faith in Chaos
Destiny, 26, from Atlanta, had been waffling between a delicate moon phase design, her late grandmother's initials, a vintage-style peony, and — her words — "a silly little mushroom because I'm going through something." Eeny Meeny landed on the mushroom.
Destiny got the mushroom. It is, by all accounts, an absolutely incredible mushroom. Her grandmother reportedly would have found it hilarious. Destiny cried happy tears in the chair. Her tattoo artist cried a little too. We cried writing this. The mushroom won.
Marcus, 31, from Chicago, was choosing between a geometric wolf, a quote from The Alchemist (we're not judging — actually, we're judging a little), a small compass, and a portrait of his dog, Brisket. The rhyme chose Brisket. Marcus has a dog portrait on his forearm now and stops strangers on the street to show them. Brisket has not yet been informed of his immortalization but seems chill about it.
Priya, 24, from Portland, landed on a design she'd listed almost as a joke — a tiny, extremely detailed illustration of a breakfast burrito. She'd included it because her friend dared her to. Eeny Meeny said yes. The burrito now lives on her ankle. Priya says it "sparks joy every single morning" and has become her most-complimented tattoo, beating out two others she agonized over for months. The burrito wins again.
The Regrettable Ones: A Moment of Silence, Please
We promised honesty, and honesty sometimes looks like Trevor, 29, from Denver.
Trevor's four options included a mountain range, a minimalist lightning bolt, a quote from a band he still loves, and — added at the last second because his roommate suggested it — a cartoon frog in sunglasses giving a thumbs up. Trevor will tell you himself that he added the frog "ironically." Eeny Meeny does not understand irony. Trevor now has a cartoon frog in sunglasses giving a thumbs up on his upper arm.
Trevor says he's "coming around to it." His roommate has been banned from future tattoo consultations.
Then there's Kelsey, 27, from Brooklyn, who listed four very meaningful, very tasteful options — and one that was a placeholder she fully expected the rhyme to skip. It did not skip it. Kelsey is now the owner of a tattoo that reads "DO NOT DISTURB" in bold font across her ribs, which she added as a joke and describes as "honestly kind of perfect for my personality" while also clearly still processing it.
Why Are We So Willing to Let Randomness Decide the Irreversible?
This is the part where it gets genuinely interesting, because the psychology here is kind of wild.
Decision researchers have long noted something called choice paralysis — the more options we have (or the higher the stakes feel), the harder it becomes to commit. Tattoos are a perfect storm: they're permanent, they're personal, and the internet has given us access to approximately eleven billion design options. No wonder people freeze.
But here's the twist: when the decision is taken out of your hands, something releases. The rhyme becomes a permission slip. Participants in our experiment consistently described the moment after the rhyme landed as a feeling of relief, even when — maybe especially when — the result surprised them.
"I immediately knew whether I was happy or disappointed," said one participant. "And that told me more about what I actually wanted than three years of Pinterest boards."
That's the secret weapon of Eeny Meeny that nobody talks about: it doesn't just make the choice. It reveals your reaction to the choice. Your gut response in that half-second after the rhyme lands? That's the real data.
The Tattoo Artists Weighed In, and Their Takes Are Everything
We'd be remiss not to mention that the tattoo artists involved had... feelings.
"I've done thousands of tattoos," said one artist in Austin who asked to remain anonymous. "The Eeny Meeny people were the most relaxed clients I've ever had. Zero second-guessing once the rhyme decided. It was almost eerie."
Another artist in Chicago called it "genuinely the most fun I've had at work in years," while noting that she did gently suggest one participant reconsider a placement choice that was not part of the experiment but was, in her professional opinion, "a lot."
So Should You Do This?
Look. We're not here to tell you how to live. (We are absolutely here to tell you how to live.)
What we will say is this: of the 73 people who went through with their rhyme-chosen tattoos, 81% said they were happy with the result when we followed up three weeks later. That's a higher satisfaction rate than most people report after agonizing over a decision for months.
The mushroom people are thriving. The burrito ankle is iconic. Even Trevor and his frog are working things out.
Maybe the counting rhyme isn't the chaos agent we think it is. Maybe it's just a very efficient way of cutting through the noise and landing on something true.
Or maybe we just convinced 100 people to get tattoos based on a nursery rhyme and some of them really love their frogs now.
Either way — Eenyakee is extremely proud of everyone involved, and we will absolutely be doing this again.