So I was visiting a blog I really enjoy reading yesterday and she extolled the virtues of her new Telly Sevalis 'do.
(and like this blogger I will now take a moment to please ask any male members of my family to go away and not visit my blog. Thank you.)
You know what I'm talking about, no? She got herself a Brazilian in anticipation of reuniting with her husband. A Brazilian renders you completely hairless down there. You must employ someone other than your obgyn to smear hot wax anywhere there may be hair. And you can't just lay there. You have to lift your legs and contort. And stuff.
See, I guess I'm old. And too attached to being a mammal.
For example, we have hair on our heads to protect our brain and keep us warm. The same can be said for men's nether regions. The day I see Bob pour molten wax on his 'nads to be pretty for me is maybe the day I take a lady Schick to the rain forest in my underwear. Maybe.
Maybe I'm intimidated by the task at hand. It is said that your clothes actually fit better. At first I guffawed, because come on. How much hair do you have that your clothes would fit differently if it were suddenly waxed off?
I just can't imagine what kind of power tool would do the job.
So for those of you who are young and smooth and wear thongs as a regular way of life: hat's off. But only for a moment, because aren't you cold?
Does anyone wear Hanes for Her cotton underwear anymore or am I living in the dark ages?
p.s. Don't forget to stop by for your chance to win some books (yes, I have two: one funny and one really good one) and tea. Just come out and say hi by Sunday.