I never would’ve believed it had I not stumbled head-long into it of my own accord, but vanity really does come at a cost.
These are dangerous times for a modern homosexual to be alive, there are impossibly skinny jeans to squeeze yourself into, flat irons to inadvertently clamp your ear in, not to mention all manner of hair removal products that border on medieval torture.
Which brings us to today’s story boys and girls. In my eternal quest to altius, fortius, shineyarse myself I’ve decided to pander to the mass-media hysteria surrounding hairlessness.
Consider this the height of hypocrisy if you will, but I like my men hairy. Hairy legs, hairy arms and swoonage central when it comes to a hairy chest. Then there’s the small matter of a hairy arse – and if you’ll excuse me I just need to go and sit myself down for a moment.
By the same token, there aint nothing wrong with a little practical grooming. Everyone needs a little weed whacking from time to time, no matter how lovely you think you may be you’ll struggle to impress if people can’t climb over your border-hedge, so to speak.
Yet, while I like you hairy I also, for some reason think you’d probably like me more if I wasn’t. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking all over depilation here – far from it. No one want to see me streaking around looking like a pre-pubescent monkey. I’m even a little fortunate in that I’m not overly hairy and the places where I have a follicle smattering are mostly okay just the way they are.
But put yourself into the ‘magic factory’ and you’ll discover some stuff that simply doesn’t belong. Exhibit A, your honour is a pubic region that doesn’t give up until the mid-way mark of my thigh, and exhibit B, should it please the court, is a mysteriously hairy crack. Mysterious mostly because of my otherwise fur-free buttocks.
Anyway thanks to modern cosmetics these can easily be rectified. Of course my female readers will most likely nod and smile as they scan this, knowing all to well what comes next: How do you deal with a problem like Maria? Err, or like a hairy minge?
You wax that shit, easy right? Maybe – if your genitalia is internal. When you’ve got all kinds of sticky-outy parts competing for space with a wax-strip the whole scenario takes on a very different flavour. Running a strip down your thigh is no hard task, pulling up a little closer to the gravy bag, well that’s a more delicate matter and of course, me being all gung-ho about it dived straight in, not realising just how simple it is to laminate your lolly bag.
Which is precisely what happened. As the strip affixed itself to one side of my coin purse I stood bolt-upright, gripped by panic. You think that’s bad? That’s nothing compared to when the tail end of that same strip whips around at a hundred miles per hour to grab hold of the other side of my sack. Um, Houston – we have some serious shit going down here.
Look, I’ve got a fairly reasonable pain tolerance – hell I’ve even done a few anesthetic-free trips to the dentist (and I highly recommend doing so at least once in your life) but even I have limits and ripping that sucker off at speed is pretty much considered ten steps too far.
So I chickened out and attempted to bathe my balls in hot water to soften up the wax, immersing them in a sink full of hot soapy water until things had loosened up enough to get the waxy bit off. Well, I got the backing paper no problems, but I didn’t realise there’d be so much residue, so as I moved around and went to take a step towards the bin one nut slapped one leg (as they do after being soaked in warm water for a while) and that was where he stayed, well until I took a follow up step and…
YEARGH! Boo-ya. That’s the shit. You think your addiction to snorting Wizz Fizz is a hard-core way to wake up? try inadvertently waxing your ball-bag with your own thigh. I’m just about to slink into the fetal position just thinking about it.
You will be pleased to know, that after clawing my way into the bath tub and baby-oiling the living shit out of the remaining sticky goo I was able to see something other than blinding white light. And what I saw made me a happy fucker indeed – A smoother bikini zone you’ve never spied on a man, actually you probably have what with all the bits I’d missed, but a quick tidy up with a razor soon fixed that.
Most importantly though I’d learnt a very valuable lesson about vanity – and it had nothing to do with pain or suffering or laminating my balls with a wax strip. It came from the rewards associated with having the kind of arse boys will want to munch on for days. But I’ll leave that up to you to discover for yourself.
9 comments:
Wax anywhere you like, but not there. It just does not work. Even chemical removers can be bad news for such sensitive parts. Shaving makes you too prickly for the next few days, although it is not bad after that. So just don't have anything lines up for the immediate future. The best I know is an electric trimmer, such as one attached to a razor. Careful not to nick, but you can do it reasonably close and no prickles or nasty face rashes for anyone who has any business down there. Now how smooth did you say your ass is?
Seriously, that's what trained professionals are for. I myself have suffered through repeated defoliations in the vajayjay region and beyond and while painful, it's nothing compared to the bliss of the smoothness (and odourlessness) that follows. Generally I do this when I'm travelling, and showers are likely to be inadequate or a little long between than society deems fit nowadays.
Essential adivce: hie the to a professional and don't risk that delicate skin again. It's soooo easy to tear skin while waxing (so many horror stories out there) that home strip-wax is the worst way to go, especially when we're talking about loose skin (I'm assuming you don't choose to do this outside in the snowfields). And don't go to anyone who uses strip wax, you need lovely warm rose wax.
Failing all that, go for my backup, the trimmer. Though sometimes the stubble is a complete biatch.
Best wishes from Buenos Aires...
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I think I'd rather go without sex than some of the activities you and the commenters have described.
Hey wait a second. I am going without sex.
I'm with Suze. I have my lovely waxing lady who is now very good friends with my girly parts and whilst I wouldn't go as far as to call the experience the highlight of my day, it certainly is over quickly and is (relatively) painfree.
And the satisfaction afterwards is a reward in itself!
Listen to Suze and MD, get someone else to do the nitty gritty.
Ha ha ha oh your descriptions had me giggling madly. You poor thing.
Don't believe the hype about going to professionals though, I went to a couple of very reputable salons only have skin removed where skin isn't meant to be removed. Ew.
Well, ya see, I’ve always liked wog boys, so something that has been too severely depilated always used to make me a little nervous, you know, look over my shoulder for the boys in blue coming for me. One hand on that boy’s body... and all that.
My Greek boyfriend’s chest used to hurt like a thousand needles when the hair was growing back. Hands in the air. I just never saw the point as I like ‘em hairy.
Now to contradicted everything I have just said, ain’t human beings grand, my current boy shaves it all off and I’ve hardly noticed the difference.
Wow,that was like reading pages in Wikipedia - all that I never knew, and some I wish I didnt. Have a totally body image obsessed 14yo, every semi-lethal chemical for removing (paint) sorry, hair, slathering it onto herself, practicing with razors, getting it wrong.....Gawd knows if shes into the Brazilian shaved thing, hope nope. Bloody terrifying, really...
Michael.
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