On cold wax and cupid’s cupboard.



Years ago, I previously attempted to wax, but with the gooey, sticky stuff–cold wax, I think it’s called. I figured that it would be safer for me than something burning hot, and it was, until I glued my thighs together with an errant splash of wax, right at the tippy-top, where they stop being your thighs and start being cupid’s cupboard.

A normal, reasonable person would probably have remembered that oil will dissolve the stickiness. I did not behave like a normal reasonable person, and in my panic to stop feeling like my legs were growing together like a mermaid’s and that I would be like that forever, I grabbed scissors to cut the sticky wax out. Please don’t ask what I was thinking, because I DON’T KNOW.  Anyway, do you want to guess how well that worked?

I’ll give you a hint. It rhymes with “bot at all”.


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