waxing not-lyrical

So that was the single most painful thing I’ve done in, like, 10 years.

So. The arduous task of grooming up.

You have to man up.

I’ve always used painless methods of hair removal. There I just said it. I use grooming mechanisms that don’t inflict pain the size of America.

Low pain threshold. Some people can give childbirth, some people get waxed, and these crazy fucks don’t feel anything more than a few twitches.

Now there’s the other side to the coin of unprecented poen pain, and that’s being Poen Shy.

Discussed this at length with my girl mates this weekend and they say – quite frankly in hindsight – that I should go professional. Although my mates who did wax themselves were poen shy. And frankly, I have to agree.

Opening your legs to some woman who puts hot wax there and yanks away. Even without the pain that’s a pretty raw picture. Freaks. Me. Into. Waxing. Submission.
So I thought, ‘it surely can’t be as painful as the time I did it in 2002?’

Ant said it would be just fine.

One forgets the pain. One is stupid.

So I went home, cut the strips up, put the wax into the microwave, and et cetera, did the vibe – and when yanking it off promptly punched myself in the nose.

Waxing has got to me thee most overrated activity on Earth, only succeeded by waiting for lost luggage. And that's not painful.

My follicles were on fire and my nose received a beating. This is what chicks happily do? What’s wrong with hair removal cream or laser?

Crisis. It’s bloody insane I tell you, insane. And men who voluntarily go for back, sack and cracks must be on full-time drugs something chronic.

Ant phoned me to see if I was still alive halfway through, and to be honest, barely.

Barely being the half operative word.

Half. Because I can’t face finishing the job.

What the fuck am I going to do?

Resort to the methods that don’t make me want to scream out, ‘Holy. Mother. Of Crap. Fucckkkkkkk. The Pain!’ maybe.