One Touch Wax

cold wax
All hair removal methods have deceived the women with their promises of
easy, painless removal - The Epilady, scissors, razors,
Nair and now ... wax. More .........
My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with children. I then had the idea that sounded painful
in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe the kit should be out of wax
the medicine cabinet. "
So I headed to the site of my death: the bathroom. He was one of
those wax "cold packs. No melting a clump of hot wax, just to rub
bands and in your hand, they get warm and you peel
hand and leg press (or somewhere else) and you pull
the
hair immediately.
No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but
I am mechanically inclined enough to determine this. (Ya Think!?)
So I pull one of the thin strips on. Its two strips facing each
glued to each other. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius
kicked in I leave the hair dryer and heat of 1000 degrees.
("Cold wax,"
yeah ... right!) I put the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around
and pull tight. It works!
OK, so it was not the best feeling, but it was not too bad. I can
that!
Hair removal robs me! I am the one-rah, fighter of all
hairs and manufacturer of extraordinary smooth skin.
With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the children, I
sneak into the bathroom, hair ultimate fighting
championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet.
Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip in the right
side
of my shirt, covering the right half of my hoo-ha
extends to the inside of my butt cheek (it was a long strip)
I breathe deeply and brace myself .... RRRRIIIPPP!
I'm blind! Blinded by pain !!!!.... OH MY Gawd !!!!!!!!!
Vision returning, I notice that I've managed to get off half
band. Damn! Another deep breath and RIPP! Everything
spinning
and spotted.
I think I can go out ... must stay conscious ... must remain conscious.
Do I hear percussion brilliant??? Breathe, breathe ... OK, back to normal.
I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one who
caused me much pain, with my hairy skin to stick. I want to
Revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I cover
band!
There was no hair on it.
Where is the hair??? WHERE is the wax???
Slowly I ease my head, foot still perched on the toilet. I see
hair. The hair that should be on the band ... not! I touch.
I am touched wax.
I no longer have my finger on the most sensitive part of my body, which is
now the subject of cold wax and matted hair. Can I make the next big
error ... remember my foot is still leaning on the toilet? I know
I
need to do something. So I put my foot.
Tightly closed! My buttocks are tightly closed. Tightly closed!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do
and I say "Please do not let me get the urge to shit. My
The head may slip! "What can I do to melt the wax?
The hot water! Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest water I can
Stand in the tub, climb, dip pieces of wax and covered
should melt the wax and gently wipe I can not???
* FALSE !!!!!!!*
I get into the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used for
torture of prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.
Now the only thing worse than having your hell glued
together, is to have t.