Friday, 17 August 2012

Men and Hair Remover!

Going totally off topic again. This had me in hysterics! Swiped from a post over at facebook. It's apparently feedback from a gentleman who had used Veet (formally Immac) gel around his nethers! Warning! Some graphic description of the peri-anal area and genitalia involved...LOL!!!

"After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly succesful and 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 missus's birthday as a bit of a treat.

 I ordered it well in advance and working in the North sea I considerd myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types...oh my fellow sufferers how wrong I was. I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen.

I didn't have long to wait.

At first there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head. Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the destruction of the meat and two veg. Struggling to not bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel of in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief. I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid of and positioned it under me. The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing soon returned.

 Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn't managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the draw for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon.I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so.I took a handful of them and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found it's way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running it's engines behind me.

 This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was 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 veg had gone before.

 Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering..." Ooooh that feels good ". Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn't heard her come in it caused an involutary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction. I can understand that having a sprout farted against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn't the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn't improve my status...So to sum it up Veet removes hair, dignity and self respect...:)"


Bloody priceless!!!!!!!

Monday, 6 August 2012

Coming back down to Earth with a deadly crash.

Things are a little rough at the minute, part of which resulted in my completely and utterly loosing it last Thursday, blowing my top and marching out of the house, well as best as one could with a walking stick, and heading north for a few days . Dave and I are both stressed out, tired, frustrated not so much with each other but with the demands made upon his time, and not enough on mine because I can't *DO* anything due of 'health 'n safety', getting fatigued easily etc.

What tipped the balance was some stupid drunk/drugged up female we don't know from Adam, starting to kick our back gate in last week. Dave and a friend of his were trying to stop her and push her back out (she had some gormless boyfriend who seems to be part of a bunch of idiots who like to gather in our back alley, looking on). I heard the commotion, utterly and completely blew my top, shoved Dave and his friend away so hard they fell over and almost punched the said female out of the doorway. I lost the plot some more and bolted. I've had 4 reasonable days up in Plymouth but am still feeling like I want to kill someone and with Dave considering going back on anti depressants. I'm considering getting some too. In any event what is needed is for Dave and myself to spend more *QUALITY* time together and try not to let the demands of other people/internet to get in the way.

Penzance can and is a lovely place to live in terms of community, we produce gold medal winners for a start, but I am oh SO fed up of the drunks/druggies who spend part of the time in stupid land and the other part kicking, stealing and destroying other people's properties and lives because they can and do get away with it. One thing is for sure, I have one helluva much shorter fuse than I used to and frustration is fast becoming my middle name!