January 14, 2012
Waxing leads to 80’s music and sitcoms and Davey Crockett and horror movies. That’s how my mind works.
So the other day I went to get a wax. No. Not for my car. For my Secret Garden. And in case you don’t know what that is, it’s my in-between, you guys. And in case you don’t know what that is, it’s my taco. And in case you don’t know what THAT is, you really need to (a) get a life, and (b) get a life. Although if you wanna get totally geeked-out and all technical about it, then vagina is the word I guess I would use. But that doesn’t really work in this situation, cuz the vagina is actually the interior portion of the garden. And unless you are a real live sasquatch or are a Kardashian, the interior part should not be hairy. It should oh so totally NOT be hairy. As far as I can recall from those awkward and uncomfortable sex-ed classes back in middle school, the actual part that I’m referring to is just called the pubic area or the labia or something like that. I think it’s Major Labia, if you wanna get all fancy. And no, that isn’t that 80’s sitcom that starred that guy who used to be in “Simon and Simon” and then married Delta Burke when she was skinny then she pulled a fast one on him and got fat again. Maybe I have that name backwards. Maybe it’s called the labia major. But that just sounds like one of Beethoven’s symphonies or something boring like that. But either way, alls I’m saying is that it sounds really technical and oh so super duper un-sexy.
Actually, since I am writing about this I decided to google a map of this stuff so I could get the terms right. But just FYI: Don’t actually “google maps” that stuff. Cuz they totally do not have it there. But there IS a place in Russia called Vagina. And I now know how to get to THERE. And I should probably actually go, because those Russian women, so far as I can tell from the movies, might need a few tips on the tending of their gardens. Those bitches look pretty hairy. But save yourselves some time. Learn from my mistakes. And just regular google it.
So anyways, regular old google led me to a diagram (“Map” was the wrong word, I guess. Although I have known some boys in my past who really could have used one), and the wording they used in said diagram, is a super mega turn-off. Did you guys happen to know that lady parts have an area called the “vestibule”? Isn’t a vestibule some kind of foyer? Okay, remember on “Friends” when Chandler got stuck in an ATM vestibule with Jill Goodacre? I always thought he was stuck in a bank foyer. But maybe he was actually stuck in her Secret Garden. Cuz let’s face it, he really was kinda awkward with women, so if any dude was gonna mess up an encounter with Jill Goodacre, it was probably gonna be him. And Ross. Ross was super nerdy. Remember when he got stuck in those freakin’ leather pants? What an idiot. But anyhow, this whole “vestibule” thing? It really changes the whole way that I look at “Friends”, and I think I’m gonna have to go back and watch some re-runs now that I have this knowledge. Kinda like when I discovered that “Turning Japanese” wasn’t a song about morphing into an Asian person, but a song about whacking off. And ditto with “She Bop”. That shit messed up my mind!
Man, I have gotten so off track with this.
But basically I prefer to call that area my Secret Garden And that’s only due to the fact that Bruce Springsteen told me to. And we all know that he’s The Boss. So it’s best to just do what he says. He’s from Jersey, you know. So he’s probably got some bad-ass connections. Anyways, when I first heard that “Secret Garden” song, there was no fooling me. I had learned my lesson in the 80’s with those other songs. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I’ll kick you in the nads. Possibly even spork you. Depending on my mood. But I heard those lyrics and I damn well knew what he was talking about:
She’ll let you in her house
If you come knockin’ late at night
She’ll let you in her mouth
If the words you say are right
If you pay the price
She’ll let you deep inside
But there’s a Secret Garden she hides.
Wait. Wait a goddamn minute. Now that I am re-reading these lyrics, I’m thinking that maybe I had this all kinds of wrong. I think that maybe “she” is a hooker. Cuz he says “If you pay the price, she’ll let you deep inside. But there’s a secret garden she hides.” So he’s obviously paid her (hooker), and she let him deep inside. But she’s still hiding the secret garden So that CAN’T be her taco. Cuz he already got deep inside of that. So I am getting all Perry Masony up in here and deducing that the secret garden is her butt and she must charge extra for butt sex. Which totally makes sense. Cuz I know plenty of non-hookers who do the butt sex, and although they may not ask for cash money, they still get a little shopping out of it. Maybe some jewelry. Occasionally a nice weekend vacation. So I suppose that a hooker would be all kinds of stupid if she didn’t charge some major bucks for that.
And now we are way off track.
Sometimes my mind goes on tangents. And it’s hard, oh so hard, to get back where I started.
And I tried to google maps “my train of thought” but it took me to a transportation museum in St. Louis. And although I know I am way off course, I’m pretty sure that a transportation museum is not what I was talking about. Even though my brain DID get off track. And trains run on TRACKS. And TRAINS are for transportation.
Wow. That shit just blew my mind. For reals.
But anyways, what I was talking about before my brain got all twisty and turny and transportationy, was waxing.
So I went in for a wax yesterday, and I’m not gonna lie. It hurts. And it hurts like balls. And in situations that hurt like balls, I like to distract myself by talking. Actually, to be totally 100% honest, I like to distract myself by talking in ANY AND ALL situations. I am nothing if not a talker. And in this situation in which my bottom half was totally naked and I was in really awkward positions whilst getting hair brutally yanked from my nether-regions, I decided that it was totally apropos to discuss ball waxing. Because women? I understand why WE wax. Women like to be smooth. In most places, anyways. We all have different levels of smoothosity that we wanna achieve. But men? Men are not supposed to be smooth. Well, except on their backs. Cuz that shit is just disturbing. I don’t need my man looking like he’s gone all Davey Crockett and skinned a buffalo and flung it on his back to stay warm. But smooth in the down below? Nope. I mean, I think most women like their men to be “manscaped”, but totally bald? That is just so totally not ok in my book.
So I had heard tell of men going in for “Crack and Sack’s”. Which is just what it sounds like, you guys. They get their butts and balls waxed. And I already know that balls look ridiculous, but I would prefer them to be hidden away behind a bit of fuzz rather than just be hanging there taunting me with their gleaming apricot-i-ness. That is disturbing to me on so many levels. And as the waxing lady told me to roll over and spread my cheeks, I decided to ask her how many men go full Brazilian. And the answer was quite a few. Quite a few, ladies. Which, of course, I immediately pictured in my twisted-awesome mind. And ya know what? It was not a pretty picture. And it wasn’t manly either. It looked like a hairy man wearing skin panties. Which I of course told my waxing lady, to which she replied, “Well, it kinda does. But I fade it in.” Meaning, she gradually waxes less and less as she goes up and/or down so it looks “natural”. Ya know, if it’s “natural” to be wearing skin panties with a gradual thickening of hair around the edges. Which it’s sooo totally not. And let me tell you something. That would be a deal breaker for me. I like my guy to be organized down there. But I pretty much don’t want him to look like he went all “Silence of the Lambs” and made skin panties with shiny dangling apricot balls that mock me at every wiggle.
Please, men of the world, stop the madness. Stop it now!
Well, unless you’re gay. Then by all means, wear your skin panties with pride. I can totally see that being acceptable.
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