Waxing- A Pubes Tale

For some reason on a fairly regular basis I subject myself to a wax. You'll have heard it before - I am a bit lazy and will go through the pain to be hair free for more than 5 minutes.

Today was one such experience with possibly the most thorough beautician I have come across yet.

I may become a regular in the vein hope that I don't have to go too frequently.

After the third application of wax it took a set of tweezers to remove the last Bastien of 7 pubes, from what had been a quiet and warm arm pit. They'd scattered in the optimistic belief that they could hide in plan sight. It was not to be.

I found myself thinking rather proudly:

"Oh just leave them. They've survived 3 applications of hot wax and vigorous yanking"

Like The Magnificent 7 they were displaying a level of determination that would see any Mexican villager doing their own rendition of Michael Jackson's Moonwalker.


Equally another thought was running through my head:

"Oh for the love of hot wax GIVE UP and leave. There is nothing left for you- everyone else has gone to the cotton strip party. JOIN THEM AND LEAVE ME"



This thought was louder than the other.