RoseElephant copy.jpg
  • dearabi

Rip The Runway.

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, me being an ex go-go dancer should come as no surprise to you. For those who haven’t, it’s true. Back when I used to be hot and sexy, and people didn’t even know I knew how to read, I used to wear furry boots and flip my hair around half naked to music. And let me tell you – that shit was awesome. But this isn’t a story about go-go dancing. It’s a story about the time I gave myself a bikini wax.

Everytime I tell this story to someone I ask myself WHY? Just. WHY? Why would I inflict such pain upon  myself? Because I’m dumb, that’s why. Plus, I figured I would save a few bucks. So there I am pantless in front of my mirror spread mother-fucking eagle. Remember how I told you I hate vaginas? That includes my own. I don’t care how neat, or tucked in and virginal it looks, it’s still hideous, and now I have to STARE AT IT.

I use hard wax, the kind that doesn’t require strips. Using a small spatula type tool that came with the kit, I spread some on and it already fucking hurts. I’m doing it too slow or either way waited too long after I warmed up the wax and it’s pulling on my fucking vagina hairs. I stop being a bitch, and push forward and wait for the strip to harden. Then, I realize WTF I’ve gotten myself into. I start thinking of puppies, and babies. Rainbows, the fluffy chinchilla my science teacher at A.P. Giannini had, and then ffffffpt I rip that shit off and immediately apply pressure on my skin afterwards. You know, just like the professionals. Only I’m not a professional, and I’m wishing that someone would simultaneously give me a tattoo just to take my mind off the pain down there.

One would think I would’ve given up at that point. Be like a normal person, and just shave the rest off. And I probably would’ve, if it wasn’t for the fact that I still had one more strip to go. Fuck, I guess that’s what I get of being overzealous. At this point my leg is getting sore, so I do a battle cry and let it rip – no pun intended. Except for some dumb ass reason I don’t pull all the way, so it’s stuck halfway. I have half a strip to rip off, and no grip room. It’s too close to my skin, so I can’t use scissors, my leg is sore, I am now sweating, and I’M SO FUCKING TIRED OF LOOKING AT MY VAGINA!

I look at my phone, and realize I need to start getting ready soon. I look at my situation down there again, and contemplate wearing sweats to my gig. “Fuck, fuck, fuckity fucking fuck!” I scream. It reminds me of the time I pierced my own ears in middle school using a kit I bought at Walgreens, and chickened out halfway causing me to have to do it twice. I take a deep breath and think, mind over matter secretly knowing it’s a crock of shit. I have a pep talk with myself, and finally rip the rest of it off.

That was the first and last time I gave myself a bikini wax, and I have no one to blame but myself. I should’ve known what the outcome would be considering I’m a fucking pansy when it comes to peeling off band-aids *smh*. Bikini waxers of the world, kudos to you. Because you couldn’t pay me to wax my own pikachu ever again.


#bikiniwax #gogo #humpday #humpday

1 view

Recent Posts

See All

Feel the Vibration.

It's been years since I've owned a vibrator. The last one I owned was the infamous rabbit popularized by Sex And The City and gifted from my very best friend - what a gal. One of my girls sent me a te

What am I?

Intimacy. Licking your brain, while massaging mine. Exploring you inside and out. Becoming one then two then one again. Feeling you. Tasting you. Loving you. Lingerie and tailored suits, sundresses an

  • White Facebook Icon
  • White Twitter Icon
  • White Instagram Icon

© 2020 I'll make you feel things.