First, hi to the people who just visited for the first time from the Ships and Dip Message Board. Prepare to be horrified, because this is probably the MOST OFFENSIVE POST I’ve ever submitted. I can’t help it, you came on a very offensive day.
Really, if you choose to ignore any post this year, ignore this one. It is incredibly, phenomenally offensive. It goes way past the bounds of good taste and probably violates the Typepad Terms and Conditions. Luckily, I have no digital camera available to me, so take comfort that it could be worse.
Still here? Wait a minute … Mom? You have Bloglines now and I know you can see this whole post. Seriously, this one is bad. This one is worse than the smelly pajamas post.
(Okay, so Mom and I are just going to pretend this post never happened.)
As you know, I got my first Brazilian in January, and it has progressed past being a Turks and Caicosian into being a Tex-Mex shaggy five-o-clock shadow of its former self. And you know, money is a little snug here (even though Gary has been tipping all our servers fairly), and I still can’t see paying someone eighty dollars to do what I could certainly do myself. It’s not like they have magic wax, or some special knowledge of female anatomy.
So a few weeks ago I bought a leg waxing kit. I used it to rip the hair out from my armpits and I was quite successful. And it does say it’s for “the bikini line,” and I say exactly where do you draw the bikini line? Theoretically, if you tucked me in to a small string bikini I think my pubes would swallow that bikini whole. That opens up the entire area for business.
At any rate, I had a list of thirty-some odd things to accomplish today, and at the bottom of the list was “Wax.” The list whittled down to:
Return Scooba – yes, my beloved Scooba died.
Change furnace filter – my least favorite job ever.
Find new hairstylist – my upper hairs are shaggy too, and our stylist of twenty-plus years has left the business.
Wax.
Well, I thought, given that it’s Sunday I can change the furnace filter or I can rip out all of my pubic hair. And did I mention this is one of those “hammock” furnace filters?
Yeah, I know, fellow women, you think I’m crazy. A year ago I would have said the same thing. But here’s the thing, imagine one of your breasts is covered with hair, except for the nipple, and the other isn’t. Which breast is going to get the focused, centralized attention and which is going to get the full and varied treatment, shall we say? There you are. That’s what I’m saying.
I thought I might take some aspirin first to take the edge off. “Huh,” I thought, “You know what else takes the edge off? Percocet. And I happen to have exactly one left from when I had the croup.”
So I swallowed the Percocet and eyed our Big Jug O’ Baileys until the ghost of Anna Nicole rose up and bared its Giant White Teeth at me. I straddled the footstool and balanced on it a hand mirror my sister-in-law Karen gave me. I wallowed a moment in the irony that the most conservative person I know was helping me do this. Then I applied and yanked.
“Oww!” my labia cried. “Oww!” They sound just like Sarah Silverman, incidentally.
(And did anyone else see the Independent Spirit Awards bit when she stretched her lips and then titled her head completely sideways at the camera and talked? That was great. Otherwise, I don’t like SS, because she’s just too crude and vulgar for me. Ha! No, really.)
After that first one it got better. I was thorough, too, except for when I got to … the more elastic bits of my anatomy. I tried my best, but they are still every bit as furry, darn it, and maybe even a little more stretched out than before.
And I am eighty dollars richer! Perhaps I can pay someone to come in and change the furnace filter.
12 responses to “In Which I Reduce Our South American Debt by Eighty Dollars!”
You could save even more money by leaving it alone… (Ouch! Damn, girl!)
还是不懂。。。。。。。。。。。。
Yes, as you said both times, it is very hard to understand. I don’t understand it myself. Of course, something might be lost in the translation.
What will you do next time, when you have none Percocet?
I don’t know. Anbesol?
Excellent idea. You can do some cardio while you’re jumping up and down, trying to divert yourself from the searing pain.
What if you put a topical analgesic on first, like Bactine? Other tips: Evening is better than morning. Turn the stereo on really loud so you can’t hear yourself whimper. An ice cube after? Use the wax you heat in the microwave, not the cold one (Nads, or the kind sold attached to the plastic that looks like tape). Tell yourself you’ll pull on the count of, say, five, then surprise yourself by ripping it off at three.Don’t ask me how I know these things.
Okay, and I was thinking that standing in front of the humidifer for a few minutes might be a good idea too.
Trust Ms. Spoon. I lived with her for three years, and she knows from waxing.
I feel like a fog, not that it matters. I’ve pretty much been doing nothing , but eh. Today was a loss. I haven’t gotten much done for a while.
How the hell did that spammer get through?
Spammer? I think its a Canadian porn star. The email she/he gives has a porn star’s name in it. Mardel is a chain of christian book stores, but the URL goes to the Peterborough Ontario New Age phone book. Seriously. SO:Bible book christian mardel store – Well, sometimes people just need time to decompress. Don’t beat yourself up. As long as there is nothing pressing, take a little time off. That’s what I think, anyway.