Monday, March 14, 2005

 

Intrusion of Sanity


It really annoys the hell out of me when I make a decision that's borderline sane, however since it happens so seldom I suppose there are really very few grounds for complaint. Not that that's ever stopped me yet.

I have decided against doing the Otis, despite my declaration to MarQ1 that we should start a Great Otis March, with every possible inappropriate body type making one, and then all marching arm in arm down some main thoroughfare, wearing them and chanting "Hey, hey, get out of our way, We're ballerinas and we're here to stay" or something along those lines.

Poor man. I think I've scarred him for life with that vision and expect that I'll never hear from him again. And just when we were having such a good time.

I am either going to make the Clapotis, despite my protests that I'm not all that fond of it, or maybe this:




Or felt all of the lambswool into slippers.

Note: For anyone who doesn't want to read about my twat, this would be a good time to move on to another blog. Stuart and Ann, this means you. *g*

Tonight, being deprived of my usual chat time with my friend with whom I have been babbling on a close-to-daily basis for many years now, I decided to let my brain cells make the decision as to the evening's activities.

My brain cells are evil and wish me ill, apparently.

I thought "oh what a thrill, I have girl time, I have personal maintenance time, let's do a bikini wax!"

I've had waxes done by professionals before and have also used those "slap on, rip off" strips, however this time I had purchased the sort of wax that you heat up and then splat on with a tongue depressor and then rip off.

I heated the wax, I slapped it on and then realized exactly WHAT I had slapped it onto. Once that shit is on you, you've passed the point of no return; the ripping is a given.

Had I been doing an ordinary bikini wax, this would have been horrible but bearable ... but ... well ... the brain cells decided that I should expand the extent of my efforts and trim the upper edges of my recreational area.

I realized that I needed a straight edge, so that I didn't look like I had been trimming the environs with a weed whacker, and grabbed the nearest available piece of card-like material. I held it appropriately, slapped on the wax and then realized that I was standing there, pantsless, with a child's birthday party invitation glued to my cooze with blue wax.

I have no idea what Freud would do with that one.

The rippage was vile. I have truly never had a more painful experience. The good news is that the pain disappeared within minutes, and I now have the cutest coochie in town. Pictures are available, but only after $50 appears in my PayPal account. I know you people and credit is out of the question.

The birthday invitation is in the garbage, waiting for the nice sanitation engineers to pick up the bin in the morning.

I hope to dog my daugher doesn't ask where it went.

Comments:
omg! i'm sitting here at work, tears streaming down my face, co-workers asking me what the hell am i laughing at... thanks for starting my day off with a laugh (again!)
 
So that's a do-it-yourself brazilain? Why, why must your hurt yourself this way, my dear?

Ow.
 
That is precisely the reason that I no longer wear bathing suits. Well, that and the extra 40 pounds.
 
Oh my. This post will teach me to surf during a conference call at work! I was choking back the laughter and making quite the scene!!
 
I thought I was the only freak who ripped out my own pubic hair (well, at least not for the entertainment value--I'm sure there are some who do that). The first time I did it, I slapped so much of that stuff on I took off half my hair with one pull. Now that freaking hurts. Advice? I use that Nads stuff (sugaring) so if you get frightened and need to rest, you can wash it all away. Oh yeah, start small. (I gotta say though---smooooooth.)
 
oh my god, i needed a laugh like that! my son who is 12, came charging out of his room, because he thought iwas crying, lol! had to minimize it quick! don't think i want to explain naked coochie to him yet (oy, i don't EVEN wanna go there)
 
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?