I want to warn my fellow posters about a product called VEET, designed to be used for hair removal.
As some of you may have begun to experience, as we age it seems like the hair on our head moves south and relocates in other places. And, as we are constantly being reminded by various media sources, it is cool to have a lot of hair on your head, O.K. to have some on your face, but totally un-cool to have it any place else.
Having had it suggested that my danglies looked like an elderly Rastafarian, I decided to take the plunge and buy some of the product VEET. Previous shaving attempts had only been mildly successful, especially as I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits. Being a bit of a romantic, I thought I would do the deed on the wife's birthday as a bit of a treat.
I ordered the product well in advance. Working in the job that I do, I considered myself a bit above some of the characters who wrote reviews. I rather wrote them off as soft, office types. You know, maybe dentists. Oh, my fellow sufferers, how completely wrong I was.
I waited until the better half was safely tucked into bed, made a couple of vague hints about a special surprise, and went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well. I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen. I didn't have to wait very long.
A gentle warmth spread over the treated region, which was replaced rather quickly by an intense burning and a sensation something akin to being given a barbed wire wedgie.
I admit that religion does not play a very large part in my life - but within a few minutes I became willing to convert to any faith that would stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed to be the likely distruction of the meat and two eggs. Struggling not to bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel off in the sink, but only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair. Through a haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom and down the hall to the kitchen. By the time I reached the kitchen walking was no longer possible and I crawled the final two yards to the fridge in hopes of some form of cold relief.
I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream - tore the lid off and positioned it under me. The relief was fantastic, but alas only temporary. The ice cream melted and the fire returned.
Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn't managed to give the starfish any treatment so I groped around in the drawer for something else as I was sure my vison was going to fail soon.
I grabbed a bag of what I later found to be frozen brussel sprouts and tore it open, trying to be as quiet as possible. I took a handful of the sprouts and tried in vain to clench some between my cheeks. This helped, but unfortunately some of the gel had found its way up the chutney channel and it felt as if the space shuttle was running its engines behind me.
This was, hopefully, the only time in my life I was ever going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen - which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain. The only solution my pain-crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veggie had gone before.
Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate. She was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my man bits, pushing a sprout up the chute, while muttering "ooooohhhhh that fels good". This was a bit of a shock to her and she gave a bit of a scream. Since I hadn't heard her come in, the scream startled me and caused an involuntary spasm of shock in me - which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed. Having a sprout fired against her leg wasn't exactly the surprise she had expected, or that I had planned. Trying to explain to the kids the next day why the strawberry ice cream looked so funny didn't improve my status in the family, either.
However, VEET did remove the hair. Along with my dignity and self respect.