I Wish
I wish I was little bit tallerI wish I was a baller
I wish I had a girl who looked good
I would call her
I wish I had a rabbit in a hat with a bat and a '64 Impala
- Skee-Lo
In the words of the inimitable Skee-Lo, I WISH I HAD VIDEO FOOTAGE OF THIS. This just in from Little Miss Deep Dish:
In my last life I used to do my own bikini waxes, mostly out of cost and convenience. It goes without saying that it takes a very daring woman to rip hair from her own crotch - and I am just that sort of girl. Imagine removing a band aid but turn up that pain about a zillion times. Now you're getting close. Mind you these self-inflicted waxes weren't nearly as invasive as a Brazilian, but still, you need a good grip and a sturdy stick to bite down on.
So, one evening when I was between roommates I was waxing my bikini area and I guess I got a little bit "rough" with myself. 'Cause it killed. Not having any ice packs, peas or even an old Lean Cuisine in the freezer, I decided that it was time for desperate measures. I grabbed for an ice cold can of beer to hold between my legs while I sat on the couch, watching TV and waiting for the pain to subside.
Well, the crotch is a warm area. One of the warmest on the body in fact. So it wasn't long before that beer got warm and was no longer an effective cold compress on my burning, throbbing loins. So I took another ice cold brewski from the fridge, placed it in my crotch and drank the luke warm beer.
This went on for awhile, apparently, because the next thing I knew it was 7:30 in the morning. I woke up on the couch naked from the waist down, lights and TV still on with about 6 empty beer cans littered about the couch. And I was late for work. God only knows what could happen now that I'm living alone again...
Sounds to me like there are a few lessons to be learned. Here's how I see 'em:
1. You are my hero. You deserve a fucking Medal Of Honor for even considering waxing yourself. Courage? Bravery? Strength in the Face (Groin) of Pain? Check check and check. You are the wind beneath my wings. The only thing I can think of that might rival this could be tweezing a rogue nose hair while extracting a splinter while digging out an ingrown toenail...and self-inflicted waxing STILL wins in that pain game.
2. Koozie technology needs an update. It’s 2005, for gods sake. Just like many other products that were invented with only men in mind, the koozie needs an overhaul. Something to insulate in the front and allow ice pack functionality in the back. A Koochie Koozie? Patent it. You'll be a hundred-airre.
3. You would fit in down South. Not anatomically. Geographically. In the southern states. You're in sister. Daughters of the Revolution, not so much. But Bo and Luke Duke (the ORIGINALS, thank you very much, not this lame new crew) dream of women like you. The booziness. The naked from waist down-ness. The passed out and I have no idea what happened-ness. You can curtsey, can't you?
posted by gracegow @ 1:31 PM
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