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Joke... Only for women!!!

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katrina

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Joined
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Location
East north east of Soapweed
All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of
easy,painless removal - The epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax.


My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner,
play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: 'Maybe I should pull the waxing kit
out of the medicine cabinet.' So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom.

It was one of those 'cold wax' kits. No melting a clump of wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever 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. It's two strips facing each other
stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so
I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees (cold wax, yeah,right).

I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin tight and pull.
It works! Okay, 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.

With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I
sneak back 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 apply the one strip across the right side of my bikini
line, covering the right half of my 'hoo-hoo' and stretching down to
the inside of my butt cheek (yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply
and brace myself.....RRRRIIIIIPPPPP!!!!!

I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!
OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!

Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip.
CRAP!!!!

Another deep breath and RRIIPP!!! Everything is whirly and spotted. I
think I may pass out...must stay conscious...Do I hear crashing drums???

Breath, breathe...okay, 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. I see
the hair. The hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I am touching wax.

CRAP!!!
I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which
is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake...
remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet?
I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.
DANG!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door.
'Hoo hoo'?? sealed shut!
Butt?? sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to
figure out what to do and think to myself, 'please don't let me get the urge to poop.
My head may pop off!' 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 bathtub, get in, immerse the wax covered bits and the water 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 and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water.
Which, by the way, does not melt cold wax.

So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement epoxied myself to the porcelain!!!

God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago 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 very good conversation starter.

'So, my butt and hoo-hoo 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 from me.
She wants to know exactly where the wax is located,
'are we talking cheeks or hoo-hoo?'
She laughing out loud by now...I can hear her as I give her the rundown and 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 scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry shaving the sticky wax off!!!

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 for this event.

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 loose at this point? I rub some on and
OH MY GOD!!!

The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend.
It's sooo painful, but I really don't care. IT WORKS!!! It works!!!

I get a hearty congratulations 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
 
Faster horses said:
Didn't you guys read........."only for women"................ :p

HELL, FH....THAT'S WHY THEY READ IT!!! :lol: :lol: :lol:

THIS WAS JUST THE LAUGH I NEEDED AT 1 IN THE MORNING....COFFEE SHOOTING OUT MY NOSTRILS HAD MY CO-WORKER ON THE FLOOR, IN HYSTERICS!!! :lol: :lol:
 
KATRINA AND ALL THE OTHER LADIES OF RANCHERS....HAD A MALE FRIEND SEND THESE TO ME.....ENJOY :lol:

Because I'm a man, when I lock my keys in

the car, I will fiddle with a coat hanger long

after hypothermia has set in.

Calling AAA is not an option.

I will win.



Because I'm a man, when the car isn't running

very well, I will pop the hood and stare at the

engine as if I know what I'm looking at.

If another man shows up, one of us will say to

the other, "I used to be able to fix these things,

but now with all these computers and

everything, I wouldn't know where to start."

We will then drink a couple of beers and break

wind, as a form of communion.



Because I'm a man, when I catch a cold,

I need someone to bring me soup and take

care of me while I lie in bed and moan.

You're a woman. You never get as sick

as I do, so for you, this is no problem.


Because I'm a man, I can be relied

upon to purchase basic groceries at the store,

like milk or bread. I cannot be expected

to find exotic items like "cumin" or "tofu."

For all I know, these are the same thing.


Because I'm a man, when one of our

appliances stops working, I will insist on taking

it apart, despite evidence that this will just cost

me twice as much once the repair person

gets here and has to put it back together.


Because I'm a man, I must hold the

television remote control in my hand while

I watch TV. If the thing has been misplaced,

I may miss a whole show looking for it,

though one time I was able to survive by

holding a calculator instead

Because I'm a man, there is no need to ask

me what I'm thinking about.

The true answer is always either sex, cars, sex,

sports or sex. I have to make up something

else when you ask, so just don't ask.


Because I'm a man, you don't have to

ask me if I liked the movie. Chances

are, if you're crying at the end of

it, I didn't... and if you are

feeling amorous afterwards . . then I

will certainly at least remember the

name and recommend it to others.


Because I'm a man, I think what you're wearing

is fine. I thought what you were wearing five

minutes ago was fine, too. Either pair of

shoes is fine. With the belt or without it,

looks fine. It does not make your ass look

too big. It was the pasta and potatoes and

margaritas that did that. Your hair is fine.

You look fine. Can we just go now?


Because I'm a man, and this is, after all,

the year 2011, I will share equally in the

housework. You just do the laundry, the

cooking, the cleaning, the vacuuming,

and the dishes, and I'll do the rest. Like

wandering around in the garden with a

beer, wondering what to do.
 

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