I received a fresh “haircut” from my “wax songstress” (she sings sweet nothings as her freakishly tiny hands make their way around my “secret garden” weeding it with molten hot wax and linen paper…or some shit).
Anyways, this is an adventure and it’s always the same (see The Wax Artist), yet always so different. I’ve learned from experience that this isn’t my cup ‘o tea, pierced nipples…yes, getting my pubic hair ripped from my lips…no. Now I have a list. Yes, a check list of things that I need to remember before, during and after.
1. Pain Reliever (lots)
2. Know your “best friend” lies when it comes to the area
3. Once the evil laugh comes or the glimmer in her eye…I’m a dead woman, brace and breathe because what I feel next will be painful
4. She doesn’t care about your tears, if anything it makes her head more in the “game”
5. Keep thinking the amazon jungle will be gone on the lower half of your body
6. Find someone to sleep with that will enjoy your friends “art”
7. When she says, “spread em”, she means pull your own mom ass apart while she goes in for an awkward kill (she officially has seen more than any man has)
8. Once you get to a certain point, she will get hungry and that only makes her wax faster
9. Always have a life line, my life lines are water bottles that I end up throwing and my cellular device that ends up being tossed too…I usually scream and wail like a small child once my life lines are gone because, then its just me and her…terrible
10. I will get exhausted from her constant gremlin hands tugging body hair out of me, she will get exhausted from the battle of dodging my legs from kicks and holding me down…we both get exhausted from the constant laughter and strange noises that both of us make (if someone where to hear our session, they for sure would think we had some strange sex going on)
11. 8 weeks of hairless body, 8 weeks of not seeing the strangest side of you closest friend, 8 weeks of her not prodding in my area, 8 weeks of mother fucking bliss…
I don’t know what is worse, the fact that she sings or that when I am done she smacks my ass and calls it a day. Either way, the adventure is over and she will wait to hear from me. I know she gave me a different haircut than I normally ask for (she is bossy).
That little shit took it into her own hands and gave me a creeper vagina…really, a creeper vagina…I have handle bars and a mustache. I spread eagle in a mirror right before work and she did it again. She groomed me to be a creepy vagina lady. Which I find utterly hilarious and ridiculous. I also find it to be even better because I had a suitor coming to visit me that night and because I am me, I didn’t do anything about my creepy haircut (him and I are strictly practicing safe sex).
I also found out that a Mustache Ride Reversed is actually, cunnalingus. Really, what a lame name.
Fast Forward(the suitor didn’t mind his cunnalingus with a creepy haircut, I couldn’t concentrate because I was dying with laughter)
My “songstress” and I had a date the very next evening…we decided to dress up and treat ourselves to some steak. Now, last time we did this it was a disaster, or actually, I WAS. I don’t think it would be possible for her and I to do anything normal. Anyways, I head over to her house in all black, like I just came from a funeral (I will never wear bright clothing to anything fancy again (see Ode to the Jumpsuit)). She being herself is wearing the cutest ensemble (bitch).
I inform her that my mother would like us to send a date photo to her. We have no way to take a photo of our outfits and ourselves without doing a “selfie” (we are way to classy for that). So I stand awkwardly by myself with my hands straight to my side and no expression on my face, she snaps the photo and does the same pose as I. After our photo session we merge them together and send the masterpiece to my mother all while peeing ourselves because her fair skin and dark tresses make her look like the child from, “The Ring”. I swear, she looked like a ghost, in a bright dress and lime green heels. We die and move on.
Upon arriving at valet, we were informed by everyone that it would be easier for us to jet across the street then travel through the casino. Well, that would be easier if her and I weren’t wearing tall heels and if the street wasn’t one of the busiest highways in town. She tells me to run as she hops off the curb, I yell and call her an idiot as she looks up and sees cars coming and stumbles back to the curb with me. A van full of men slowly pass us (creepily), after them, we jet as fast as we can, she has a death grip on my arm because her motto must be to bring me down with her (really).
We sit in a dark room, we order wine, we giggle and enjoy our steaks…the sides to the steaks blew but who gives a shit, we were eating meat and it was tasty. We gossip about my haircut, her dogs balls and all the aspects of our crazy lives. Her and I have this crazy bond, we can read each other with our eyes and speak with head nods. Nothing is greater than spending time with your closest friend. We stuff ourselves and decide the night needs to end, we dread the cross across the highway but this time I run at an angle and let her fend for herself in which she bitches about.
We wait for the valet to retrieve the car and sink into the couch in the lobby. She suddenly shrieks as her hand immediately flies to the side of my face. She is too busy laughing to tell me whats wrong so instead she snaps a photo and shows me a giant black hair growing randomly out of my cheek.
How long has that mother fucker been there and SHE is my wax artist and she never even told me that I was a monkey on my face. You’ve got to be kidding me. I send her a snide glance and tell her to pluck it off my face. As she starts to sit up and prod at my cheek, she doesn’t realize that she has begun to flash the windows of valet. She is in such concentration that her legs move up and I swat them down. We are in hysterics at this point, she plucks the hair and just as we are trying to compose ourselves we notice the valet man staring at us through the glass window. Why, why, why, why, why.
Seriously, this weirdest shit always has to happen to us. This attractive man just saw our relationship at its finest (no wonder we are tagged as lesbians when together).
This night calls for one thing…chewing tobacco. I quit chewing years ago, but after a full steak and utter insanity from the last two days with my bestie, I need a dip.
It was the best dip of my life…and after that dip, I had really good cunnalingus from my suitor (thought I would clarify that it wasn’t from my crazy friend).
Lessons I have learned; bitch does what she wants, she takes me down with her, I can have just a sexual relationship, a black hair grows from my face, my thirty something bestie looks like a child from a scary movie…most importantly I have the greatest friendship on the face of the planet and I live for our crazy nights, even if we are in bed asleep before 11pm.