Cowgirlie_in_Tennessee
05-12-2005, 05:38 PM
Subject: Funny stuff
I laughed so hard I had tears coming out of my eyes.
Wendy
Hair removal...................
You don't have to be a woman to appreciate this story. I
guarantee it
will have women (men too) laughing out loud!!
All methods have tricked me with their promises of easy,
painless
removal
- the Epilady, the standard razor, the scissors, the Nair, the
EpilStop,
and now . . The Wax.
My night began as any other normal weekday night. I came home
from work,
fixed dinner for my son and we played for a while.
I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for
the next
couple hours: maybe I should use that wax in my medicine
cabinet.
I set up my boy with a video and head to the site of my demise,
um, I mean
bathroom.
It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of hot
wax, you
just rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart, press
it
on your
leg (or wherever) and ignore the frantically rising crescendo
of
string
instruments in the background. No muss, no fuss. How hard can
this be?
I mean, I'm not the girly-est of girls but I'm mechanically
inclined so
maybe I can figure out how this works.
You'd think.
So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing
each other,
stuck together. I'm supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and
soften the
wax (I'm guessing).
I go one better: I pull out the hair dryer and heat the SOB to
ten
thousand degrees. Cold wax, my ass. (Oh, how that phrase will
come back
to haunt me.
I lay the strip across my thigh. I hold the skin around it and
pull. OK,
so it wasn't the best feeling in the world, but it wasn't bad.
I
can do
this!
Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am Sheera, fighter of all
wayward
body hair and smooth skin extraordinaire! With my next wax
strip, I move
north.
After checking on my boy and verifying that he was, in fact,
becoming one
with Bear and learning all about smells, I sneak into the
bathroom for The
Ultimate Hair Fighting Championship.
I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the
same
procedure, I then apply the wax strip across the right side on
my
bikini
line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching up
into
the
inside of the right ass cheek.
(Yeah, it was a long strip.)
I inhale deeply. I brace myself.
RRRIIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind! Blind from the pain!
Vision returning.
Oh crap. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the strip.
Another deep breath. And RIIIP!
Everything is swirly and tie-dyed?
Do I hear crashing drums?
OK, coming back to normal again. I want to see my trophy - my
wax covered
pelt that caused me so much agony. I want to revel in the
glory
that is
my triumph over body hair. I hold the wax strip like an
Olympic
gold
medalist.
But why is there no hair on it?
Why is the wax mostly gone?
Where could the wax go, if not on the strip?
Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the
toilet. I see
hair - the hair that should be on the strip.
I touch. I feel. I am touching wax. I look to the ceiling
and
silently
shout "nooooooo!!" And realize I have just begun living my own
personal
version of "The Tar Baby."
I peel my fingers off the softest, most sensitive part of my
body
that is
now covered in cold wax and matted hair, and make the next big
mistake -
up until this point, you'll remember, I've had my foot on the
toilet. I
know I need to move, to do something.
So I put my foot down on the floor. And then I hear the
slamming
of the
cell door.
Vagina? Sealed shut.
Ass? Sealed shut.
A little voice in my head says "I hope you don't have to do #2
anytime soon.
Your head just might pop off."
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying desperately to figure
out what I
should do next.
Hot water!
Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest water I can stand
and
get in -
the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it away, right?
Wrong.
I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than is used to
torture
prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment. And I sit.
Now the
only thing worse than having your goodies glued together is
having them
glued together and then glued to the bottom of a tub. In
scalding hot
water.
Which, by the way, does not melt the cold wax.
So now I'm stuck to the tub.
I call my friend, C, because she once dropped out of beauty
school so
surely she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off
skin. It's
never good to start a conversation with "So my ass and hoochie
are stuck
to the tub.
She doesn't have a trick. She does her best to suppress
laughter. She
wants to know exactly where the wax is on the ass - "Are we
talking cheek
or hole, here?" she asks. She isn't even trying to hide the
giggles now.
I give her the run-down of the entire night. She tells me to
call the
number on the side of the box, but to have a good cover story
for
where
the wax actually is.
"You know that if we were working the help line at XX Wax Co.
and
somebody called with their entire crack sealed shut we'd just
put
them on
hold then record the conversation for everyone we know. You're
going to
end up on a radio show or the internet if you tell them the
truth."
While we go through various solutions, I have resorted to
scraping the wax
off with a razor. Boy, nothing feels better to the girly
goodies
than
covering them in wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water
and THEN
dry shaving the sticky wax off!
In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably
turned
to other
subjects!) I find the little, beautiful saving grace that is
the
lotion
provided with wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and
start
screaming
"It's working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations
from
C and we
hang up.
I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to my dismay,
that
the hair
is still there. So I shaved the damned stuff off. Hell, I was
numb by
that point anyway. And then I put the box of wax back in my
medicine
cabinet.
Never know, I may want to try it again.........
I laughed so hard I had tears coming out of my eyes.
Wendy
Hair removal...................
You don't have to be a woman to appreciate this story. I
guarantee it
will have women (men too) laughing out loud!!
All methods have tricked me with their promises of easy,
painless
removal
- the Epilady, the standard razor, the scissors, the Nair, the
EpilStop,
and now . . The Wax.
My night began as any other normal weekday night. I came home
from work,
fixed dinner for my son and we played for a while.
I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for
the next
couple hours: maybe I should use that wax in my medicine
cabinet.
I set up my boy with a video and head to the site of my demise,
um, I mean
bathroom.
It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of hot
wax, you
just rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart, press
it
on your
leg (or wherever) and ignore the frantically rising crescendo
of
string
instruments in the background. No muss, no fuss. How hard can
this be?
I mean, I'm not the girly-est of girls but I'm mechanically
inclined so
maybe I can figure out how this works.
You'd think.
So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing
each other,
stuck together. I'm supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and
soften the
wax (I'm guessing).
I go one better: I pull out the hair dryer and heat the SOB to
ten
thousand degrees. Cold wax, my ass. (Oh, how that phrase will
come back
to haunt me.
I lay the strip across my thigh. I hold the skin around it and
pull. OK,
so it wasn't the best feeling in the world, but it wasn't bad.
I
can do
this!
Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am Sheera, fighter of all
wayward
body hair and smooth skin extraordinaire! With my next wax
strip, I move
north.
After checking on my boy and verifying that he was, in fact,
becoming one
with Bear and learning all about smells, I sneak into the
bathroom for The
Ultimate Hair Fighting Championship.
I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the
same
procedure, I then apply the wax strip across the right side on
my
bikini
line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching up
into
the
inside of the right ass cheek.
(Yeah, it was a long strip.)
I inhale deeply. I brace myself.
RRRIIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind! Blind from the pain!
Vision returning.
Oh crap. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the strip.
Another deep breath. And RIIIP!
Everything is swirly and tie-dyed?
Do I hear crashing drums?
OK, coming back to normal again. I want to see my trophy - my
wax covered
pelt that caused me so much agony. I want to revel in the
glory
that is
my triumph over body hair. I hold the wax strip like an
Olympic
gold
medalist.
But why is there no hair on it?
Why is the wax mostly gone?
Where could the wax go, if not on the strip?
Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the
toilet. I see
hair - the hair that should be on the strip.
I touch. I feel. I am touching wax. I look to the ceiling
and
silently
shout "nooooooo!!" And realize I have just begun living my own
personal
version of "The Tar Baby."
I peel my fingers off the softest, most sensitive part of my
body
that is
now covered in cold wax and matted hair, and make the next big
mistake -
up until this point, you'll remember, I've had my foot on the
toilet. I
know I need to move, to do something.
So I put my foot down on the floor. And then I hear the
slamming
of the
cell door.
Vagina? Sealed shut.
Ass? Sealed shut.
A little voice in my head says "I hope you don't have to do #2
anytime soon.
Your head just might pop off."
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying desperately to figure
out what I
should do next.
Hot water!
Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest water I can stand
and
get in -
the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it away, right?
Wrong.
I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than is used to
torture
prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment. And I sit.
Now the
only thing worse than having your goodies glued together is
having them
glued together and then glued to the bottom of a tub. In
scalding hot
water.
Which, by the way, does not melt the cold wax.
So now I'm stuck to the tub.
I call my friend, C, because she once dropped out of beauty
school so
surely she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off
skin. It's
never good to start a conversation with "So my ass and hoochie
are stuck
to the tub.
She doesn't have a trick. She does her best to suppress
laughter. She
wants to know exactly where the wax is on the ass - "Are we
talking cheek
or hole, here?" she asks. She isn't even trying to hide the
giggles now.
I give her the run-down of the entire night. She tells me to
call the
number on the side of the box, but to have a good cover story
for
where
the wax actually is.
"You know that if we were working the help line at XX Wax Co.
and
somebody called with their entire crack sealed shut we'd just
put
them on
hold then record the conversation for everyone we know. You're
going to
end up on a radio show or the internet if you tell them the
truth."
While we go through various solutions, I have resorted to
scraping the wax
off with a razor. Boy, nothing feels better to the girly
goodies
than
covering them in wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water
and THEN
dry shaving the sticky wax off!
In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably
turned
to other
subjects!) I find the little, beautiful saving grace that is
the
lotion
provided with wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and
start
screaming
"It's working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations
from
C and we
hang up.
I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to my dismay,
that
the hair
is still there. So I shaved the damned stuff off. Hell, I was
numb by
that point anyway. And then I put the box of wax back in my
medicine
cabinet.
Never know, I may want to try it again.........