Once upon a time it seemed that Ted Cruz was ruling the pack in the election. I had thoughts that maybe I should go to Canada if that happened. I also thought that perhaps as an act of good will for this emigration I should maybe get a bikini wax in the shape of a maple leaf just in case the TSA got a little crazy in their scans they could clearly see I was on their side. I can’t stand either presidential nominee so there’s still a chance that I’m moving eh?
Women do all kinds of things to make their, shall we say…flowers, more attractive for men. Now, I’m no expert but I kind of thought that as long as said flower was offered it was bad form to critique it barring hygienic type issues.
There’s vajazzling which is the decoration of a woman’s nether regions with glitter or sparkles or crystals. Because I need Swarovski on my hoo-ha said every woman ever.
There are a plethora of options for waxing. There’s a Brazilian which is basically intolerable cruelty as far as I’m concerned. There’s a full bikini wax which allows one the option of how much or how little they would like removed. Here is the magic provision for this, butt strip. It’s a thing. I actually called up places to ask. There’s the just make it not look like a thicket wax which basically tidies up the area. Lastly there is the Hollywood wax which bares all. Sorry but this is just creeptastic. I’m not sure who this appeals to but all I can say is….gross.
Apparently the new veejayjay rage is steaming. Yes that’s right, steaming. Because up until this point the most awkward thing we faced was our annual ob/gyn appointment and the dread words, “Scoot down to the edge of the table and relax.” Yes, that six-foot long speculum will certainly insure my limber and mellow lady parts. Thanks Doc, I feel better now, please do proceed with making me wish I’d been tossed off a cliff earlier this morning. Back in my youth, we used to have those insidious and awful commercials in which a daughter confessed to her mother that sometimes she felt “less than fresh”. I don’t know about you, but I NEVER had that conversation with my Mum. Ever. Not even under threat of dismemberment would I have the conversation with anyone; mother, lover, doctor. Screw yourself. I will keep that shit to myself. We have progressed since these good old days. Now we have steaming. Some report it makes them feel clean and fresh and ready to take on the world. Ummmm, do I call you a slut for that? I’m not sure what to do. This is awkward…please stop talking about steaming your girlie goodies. You steam vegetables. I hate you pretentious celebrity who tries to tell the rest of us how we’re living our lives wrong. I somehow hope that mystically your vajazzled girl parts that I’m sure are so much prettier than ours steam up and produce popcorn or rice or a baked potato or some other gluten based byproduct that utterly fucks up your low carb life style.
Now because I have more than one screw loose, I have a hard time not thinking about what this entails and not making a totally inappropriate floor cleaner and/or crock pot joke. Since doctors have mostly ruled that douching is a no no then I think I can safely assume that steaming should be out as well; and if a clean vagina makes one ready to take on the world….
I’m just gonna leave that right there.
And here we are almost at my point.
All of these things that we do to make ourselves more attractive for men…what do we get in return?
Stop, please, I beg of you. Most women I know don’t care. We think it looks silly. When men come out of the shower and decide to waggle their wobblies…it’s like a hula we don’t want to watch.
Why? Must you? I repeat, why?
I had company not long ago and I decided since we had emissaries from the gay side of things, I decided to publicly pose the question. Why?
Apparently it’s something to do with the aerodynamics of things, or the wind beneath your wings or reenacting the Titanic hitting an iceberg. I don’t frigging know; but I was assured that there’s a certain amount of freedom involved and dressing immediately just killed the vibe.
Women tend to shower, dry off, dress, and move on to the 9,000 things on their daily to do list. We don’t necessarily have the time to drip dry and waggle some bits in the process. We dry off once, air out a bit as we grab our clothes and then usually have to dry again under the boobs and butt before dressing. It’s a girl rule that is required before undies and bras are put on. We get demerits if we don’t do this. It’s girl code. It has nothing to do with repression, it has everything to do with time management. Not romantic? When trying to get kids to school or yourself to work…think we care?
While out to dinner with Sugar Britches this evening, in the midst of laughing ourselves frigging silly, I confirmed this sneaking suspicion that we really are all alike. I used to think I was weird (SILENCE), but now I know. Okay, I am weird. I’ll grant that much. But I know I’m not alone in the spartan, get shit done mindset.
I realize men are from Mars and women are from anwhere else but Mars, but I don’t think this is something we’ll ever see eye to eye on. Then again, someone, somewhere sold us a bill of goods or goodies that apparently we need steam cleaning. So all bets are off. I’m not sure which gender is sillier.
I say screw it, let’s all have a good laugh.