Hair Removal - envision as you read

8/23/2007 11:31:27 PM	Hair Removal - envision as you read
lovinglife437 Meadville, PA age: 44	They have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless hair removal; the Epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now... the wax. My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, eat dinner, play with the dog. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet." I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart, press them to your leg (or whatever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. YA THINK? So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in. I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. I lay the strip across my thigh, hold the skin and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire. SO I move north. I'm ready for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. I apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (it was a long strip). I inhale deeply & brace myself... RRRIIIPPP! I'm BLIND! Blinded from pain!!! OH MY GAAAAWD!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP! Another deep breath and RIPP! Everything is spinning and spotted. I think I may pass out... must stay conscious, must stay conscious. I hear crashing drums. Breathe, breathe... OK, back to normal. I want to see my trophy - a wax-covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip. There's no hair on it. Where is the hair?? WHERE IS THE WAX??? Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. The hair that should be on the strip... it's not! I touch. I am touching wax. I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax & matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake... remember my foot is still propped upon the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down. Sealed shut! My butt is sealed shut. Sealed shut! I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do. What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the tub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right? WRONG!!! I get in the tub. The water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit. Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together then glued to the bottom of the tub... in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax. So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cemented myself to the porcelain! God bless the man who convinced me to have a phone put in the bathroom. I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a great conversation starter - "So, my butt and hoo-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!" There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter. "Are we talking cheeks or hole or hoo-ha?" She's laughing out loud by now. I give her the rundown; she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH Right! I should be the joke of someone else's night. While we go through various solutions, I resort to trying to scrape the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax then dry-shaving! By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling. My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace - the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose? I rub some on and OH MY GAAWD!!! The scream probably woke the neighbors and scared the d*ckens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, but IT WORKS! I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair... THE HAIR IS STILL THERE... ALL OF IT! So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point. Next week I'm going to try hair color...
8/24/2007 11:54:14 PM	Hair Removal - envision as you read
stedmo Phoenix, AZ age: 52	That’s a very funny story! We can get ourselves into some strange predicaments. I heard a loud banging at the door. Marty came rushing in, ranting & raving about needing to use the shower! He’s half out of his pants and is in great anguish. I hear the shower going and him in there oowwwwiing … “What’s wrong, Marty?” “I blistered my dck!” “You blistered your dck?” “Yes! I blistered my dck!” “Anyone I know?” “No. Its not like that!” “Oh. Sorry. How’d ya blister your dck?” “Picking chilies!” “Picking chilies?” “Yes.” “With your dck?” “Not with my dck!” “That’s good!” “I had to pee.” “You had to pee?” “Yes.” “On the chilies?” “No! I was going eat them.” “Before or after you peed?” “I didn’t pee on the chilies!” “That’s good Marty.” “I put my hand on my dck.” “You put your hand on your dck?” “Yes. Picking the chilies” “You were playing with yourself while picking chilies?” “No! I wasn’t playing with myself! When I had to piss I touched my dck.” “You touched your dck when you had to piss? That how you got the blister?” “I think so? A little while later my dck got hot?” “Your dck got hot?” “Yes” “I don’t know Marty? I don’t get a blister when I pee or when my dck gets hot.” “Do you pick chilies?” “Not when I piss.” “That why you don’t a have blister on dck.” “Guess your right Marty… you think you got chili juice on your dck?” “Yep. I think I did!” “You think that why your dck got hot & blistered?” “Yep that’s my theory.” “You want me to call a doc?” “No! Just google red hot chili pepper and see what you can find out.”
8/25/2007 8:29:24 PM	Hair Removal - envision as you read
bookshort Marion, IL age: 59	According to the ER doctor, remedy for hot pepper juice on any part of your body is raw potato. Cut potato in half (or whatever portion) and rub potato juice on burning area. It does work. In our case, my son rubbed his eyes after messing with hot pepper and that was very painful. Sorry, don't have a remedy for the waxing fiasco. But glad you got unstuck. LMAO
8/25/2007 8:46:58 PM	Hair Removal - envision as you read
lovinglife437 Meadville, PA age: 44	oh GOSH NOOOOOOOOOO this didn't happen to MEEEEEEEEEE! It is just a joke I got from a friend sorry, but hair removal is over-rated. Not worth that kind of pain. And heck I'm allergic to EVERYTHING, last time I used NAIR my legs turned red and swelled for two days. nope.... the dang stuff can just stay there.... hmph.
8/25/2007 9:55:11 PM	Hair Removal - envision as you read
sorprano Wayne, NJ age: 56	Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, becausethe truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I hadsustained a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up a dozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head.The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's wishesto adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new acquisition was no problem.Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen."Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it.""You know where the button is," I protested through the shower pitter-patterand steam. "Reset it yourself!""But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?"There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you asecond." So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping that my silent and outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as extremely cowardly.Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find thebutton. It is the last action I remember performing.It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances.No, it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth.It was our new kitty, which discovered the fascinating dangling objects shespied hanging between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged themwith her needle-like claws.I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at aviolent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my masculineregion.Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men, inthis predicament, choose only the "flight" option. I know this from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent. The impact knocked me out cold.When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Now there are notmany things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchenfloor buck naked in front of a group of "been-there, done-that" paramedics.Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were allsnorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying tosuppress their hysterical laughter ... and not succeeding.Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back into the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me aboutmy head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, which it was."What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"If they only knew!Why is it that only the women laugh at this?
8/26/2007 10:55:58 AM	Hair Removal - envision as you read
stedmo Phoenix, AZ age: 52	Thanks bookshort for the info! I can easily incorporate potatoes into my comedic dialogue. It really did happen. Next time I’ll be prepared. But I’m not going to test the theory. Behind every good man, soprano, is a p*ssy cat that makes us want to bang our heads! and lovinglife437 that was you! don’t be embarrassed. a philosopher once said beauty can be explained in the burning of a wax candle.