It all started with an empty house, a wine-fueled spirit of adventure, and a new man in my life. I’m sure you can see where this is going, right? Yeah, well, about that. I would love to rattle off a raunchy, steam-filled story of epic rompery- but that’s not what happened that night. That night was far from sexy and, in fact, ended with me glued vagina deep to the inside of a toilet. All because this dumbass attempted drunkenly to give herself a Brazilian.
Why? Because, hey, what tells a man “I find you sexy” like a woman enduring skin ripping, hot wax in her bits in the effort to show him some appreciation? In the moment, my thought was “nothing- that’s what!” Now I’m thinking more along the lines of “bacon”, maybe?
In the hopes of retaining some dignity, if it’s even plausible at this point, let me say that it’s not like I’m a virgin to Brazilians. I used to be a regular at the salon. I knew the drill, and after finding a simple sugar wax recipe, I was feeling confident and decided to set to work and do it myself.
I used a knife to spread the incredibly hot wax. I started in the middle. Rip. One strip down and all was well. Reverse landing strip looking good! On the other hand, maybe they’re bunny ears? Rip. Second strip in, not as happy… but still going strong. Rip. Third strip, oh fuck me that hurt! Pushing through, despite the tears in my eyes. On the fourth strip I reached my thighgina. The worst part of the whole ordeal. I took a deep breath and ripped. Aw, Dear God, why in the fuck did I think this was a good idea? Who the hell came up with this bullshit? Not a woman, I can tell you that!
My displeasure with the experience was compounded once I realized the strip came up clean. How in the name of hell is the hair still there? God. Okay, round two. Rip. Fuck, now my thighgina is bleeding! What in the hell is this shit? Rip. Go away you furry bastards! Rip. Why? Rip. This has to be the hulk version of hair! Rip. More blood. Rip. But I’m determined! Rip. Okay, you win, I’ll try the other side. Right thigina, you’re going down! Rip. Shit. Rip. This. Rip. Isn’t. Rip. Working.
By the time I actually gave up, my face was as red as my thiginas and tears were streaming so steadily down my face that my vision was blurry. (I’m still unsure if the amount of alcohol involved was a factor in my vision, or lack thereof, but we’re going to pretend it wasn’t.) I snatched a bottle of oil off the counter and went to sulk on the toilet so I could nurse my battle scars.
I realized, only as cold water whirled into my vag, that I had forgotten to put the toilet seat back down after cleaning it. In my haste to get out of the freshly sterilized blue water, my sugar wax covered thighgina hit the inside rim of the toilet. So there I was. Glued vagina deep in a murky blue chemical laden toilet. The caustic mix irritated my already sore nether region. But we’ve all been there right? Or maybe you haven’t. Whatever, I can’t judge, because I’m the dumbass that got sugar glued to the inside of a fucking toilet.
After about a half hour filled with decent amount of maneuvering, some strange yoga moves and the use of a butter knife, I did manage to free myself from the toilet’s malicious blue grasp. However, I still regret the Brazilian from hell. I will certainly have to go sexless for some time now, which only further exacerbates the vaginal hell in which I now reside. Moral of the story: drunken Brazilians lead to vaginas glued to toilets. You’ve been warned.
About the author: Chelsea Love is just a single mother to an energetic toddler, trying to survive one temper-tantrum at at a time. Oh, and her toddler, too. You can find her at: http://thesassymommy.com, on http://twitter.com/LoveSassyBlog, or on http://facebook.com/thesassymommyblog