I know exactly what tattoo I'd get, if I had the cojones to do it.
Well, tattoos.
For shockingly close on 50 years now, I've been godsman to Him of the Horns. They've been good years, even the bad ones, hard but good.
So I'd wear the horn for Him: ram's horns, I think, curling elegantly over and around the ears, as the Horned Apollo (Apollôn Karneîos) wears so jauntily on this silver didrachma (circa 250-225 BCE) from Kyrene in North Africa, as Two-Horned Alexander wore as Son of Ammon. As god, they say, so priest.
In a pagan world, I'd have done this long since. For now, I'll bide the while. I'm planning to make it (be warned) to 113, so there's plenty of time. I'll need something to look forward to when I'm 85, after all, and well beyond caring what they think.