| TABLE OF CONTENTS | |
Short
Insurance Claims Gone Wrong |
Funny
Blonde Jokes |
**DISCLAIMER** This page contains some jokes that are offensive to some. The rest of this website (collectively referred to as "Jompzville") contains material, notably profanity, that is probably offensive to most. Therefore, if you are offended by profanity, please leave this site as soon as you are finished with the e-mail section. By reading this, you release me of all responsibility for the material accessed here.**
Short Insurance Claims Gone Wrong
The following are actual statements found on insurance forms where drivers attempted to summarize the details of an accident in the fewest words possible.
Coming home
I drove into the wrong house and collided with a tree I don't have.
I thought my window was down, but found out it was up when I put my head through
it.
The other car collided with mine without warning of its intentions.
I collided with a stationery car going the other way.
A truck backed through my windshield into my wife's face.
A pedestrian hit me and went under my car.
The guy was all over the road. I had to swerve a number of times before I hit
him.
I pulled away from the side of the road, glanced at my mother-in-law and headed
over the embankment.
In my attempt to kill a fly, I drove into a telephone pole.
I had been shopping for plants all day and was on my way home. As I reached
an intersection a hedge sprang up obscuring my vision, and I did not see the
other car.
I had been driving for 40 years when I fell asleep at the wheel and had an accident.
I was on my way to the doctor with rear end trouble when my universal joint
gave way causing me to have an accident.
To avoid hitting the bumper of the car in front, I struck the pedestrian.
My car was legally parked as it backed into the other vehicle.
An invisible car came out of nowhere, struck my car and vanished.
I was sure the old fellow would never make it to the other side of the curb
when I struck him.
The pedestrian had no idea which direction to run, so I ran over him.
The indirect cause of the accident was a little guy in a small car with a big
mouth.
I was thrown from the car as it left the road. I was later found in the ditch
by some stray cows.
The telephone pole was approaching. I was attempting to swerve out of its way
when it struck the front end.
I saw the slow-moving, sad-faced old gentleman as he bounced off the hood of
my car.
I told the police that I was not injured, but upon removing my hat, I found
I had a fractured skull.
True Comments From Actual Employee Performance Reviews At A Large Firm In New England
"Since
my last report, he has reached rock bottom and has started to dig."
"His men would follow him anywhere, but only out of morbid curiosity."
"I would not allow this employee to breed."
"This employee is really not so much of a has-been, but more of a definitely
won't be."
"Works well when under constant supervision and cornered like a rat in
a trap."
"When she opens her mouth, it seems that this is only to change whichever
foot was previously in there."
"He would be out of his depth in a parking lot puddle."
"This young lady has delusions of adequacy."
"She sets low personal standards and then consistently fails to achieve
them."
"This employee should go far - and the sooner he starts, the better."
"This employee is depriving a village somewhere of an idiot."
"A gross ignoramus--144 times worse than an ordinary ignoramus."
"When his I.Q. reaches 50, he should sell."
"Donated her brain to science before she was done using it."
"If you give him a penny for his thoughts, you'd get change."
One hand on wheel, one hand on horn: CHICAGO
One hand on wheel, middle finger out window: NEW YORK
One hand on wheel, middle finger out window, cutting across all lanes of traffic? NEW JERSEY
One hand on wheel, one hand on newspaper, foot solidly on accelerator: BOSTON
One hand on wheel, one hand on nonfat double decaf cappuccino, cradling cell phone, brick on accelerator, gun in lap: LOS ANGELES
Both hands on wheel, eyes shut, both feet on brake, quivering in terror: OHIO, but driving in CALIFORNIA
Both hands in air, gesturing, both feet on accelerator, head turned to talk to someone in back seat: ITALY
One hand on 12oz. double shot latte, one knee on wheel, cradling cell phone, foot on brake, mind on radio game, banging head on steering wheel while stuck in traffic: SEATTLE
One hand on wheel, one hand on hunting rifle, alternating between both feet being on the accelerator and both feet on brake, throwing McDonald's bag out the window: TEXAS
Four-wheel drive pick-up truck, shotgun mounted in rear window, beer cans on floor, squirrel tails attached to antenna: OKLAHOMA
Two hands gripping wheel, blue hair barely visible above windshield, driving 35 on the Interstate in the left lane with the left blinker on: FLORIDA
WHY
AM I SO TIRED? (submitted 6/3/2002)
For a couple years I've been blaming it on lack of sleep, not enough sunshine,
too much pressure from my job, earwax buildup, poor blood or anything else I
could think of. But now I found out the real reason: I'm tired because I'm overworked!
Here's why:
The population of this country is 273 million.
140 million are retired.
That leaves 133 million to do the work.
There are 85 million in school, which leaves 48 million to do the work.
Of this there are 29 million employed by the federal government, leaving 19 million to do the work.
2.8 million are in the armed forces preoccupied with killing the Taliban. Which leaves 16.2 million to do the work. Take from the total the 14,800,000 people who work for state and city governments (HEY!)And that leaves 1.4 million to do the work.
At any given time there are 188,000 people in hospitals. Leaving 1,212,000 to do the work. Now, there are 1,211,998 people in prisons. That leaves just two people to do the work. You and me. And there you are sitting on your ass, at your computer, reading jokes.
THIS
IS GOOD... THREE OLD LADIES
This is a detective story...so pay CLOSE attention!!
Three elderly ladies are excited about seeing their first Diamondbacks baseball
game. They smuggle a bottle of Jack Daniel's into the ball park. The game is
real exciting and they are enjoying themselves immensely, mixing the Jack Daniel's
with soft drinks. Soon, they realize that the bottle is almost gone and the
game has a lot of innings to go.
Based on
the information given above, what inning is it and how many players are on base?
*
*
*
*
Think!
*
*
*
*
Think some more!
*
*
*
*
You're gonna love it....
*
*
*
*
*
Answer:
It's the bottom of the fifth and the bags are loaded.
[return to top]I
was "flying" down the road yesterday (i.e., 10 mph over the limit).
I passed over a bridge only to find a cop with a radar gun on the
other side laying in wait.
The cop pulled me over, walked up to the car, and with that classic
patronizing smirk we all know and love, asked, "What's your hurry?"
To which I replied, "I'm late for work."
"Oh yeah," said the cop, "what do you do?"
"I'm a rectum stretcher," I responded.
The cop stammered, "A what? A rectum stretcher? And just what does a
rectum stretcher do?"
"Well," I said, "I start by inserting one finger, then I work
my way
up to two fingers, then three, then four, then with my whole hand in I work
side to side until I can get both hands in, and then I slowly but surely
stretch, until it's about 6 foot wide."
"And just what the hell do you do with a 6 foot asshole?"
To which I politely replied, "You give him a radar gun and park him
behind a bridge."
Traffic Ticket: $95.00
Court Costs: $45.00
The Look on that Cop's Face: PRICELESS
(Ed. Anyone who lives in Oklahoma that reads this will probably chuckle because we have almost ALL experienced a lot of these. For anyone who is in another state, this shows that you still have a lot to learn!)
YOU
KNOW YOU ARE IN OKLAHOMA in JULY WHEN...
The birds have to use potholders to pull
worms out of the ground.
The trees are whistling for the dogs.
The best parking place is determined by shade instead of distance.
Hot water now comes out of both taps.
You can make sun tea instantly.
You learn that a seat belt buckle makes a pretty good branding iron.
The temperature drops below 95 and you feel a little chilly.
You discover that in July it only takes 2 fingers to steer your car.
You discover that you can get sunburned through your car window.
You actually burn your hand opening the car door.
You break into a sweat the instant you step outside at 7:30 A.M.
Your biggest bicycle wreck fear is, "What if I get knocked out and end
up lying on the pavement and cook to death?"
You realize that asphalt has a liquid state.
The potatoes cook underground, so all you have to do is pull one out and add
butter, salt and pepper.
Farmers are feeding their chickens crushed ice to keep them from laying boiled
eggs.
The cows are giving evaporated milk.
With
the average cost for a Nursing Home per day reaching $188.00, there is a better
way when we get old & feeble.
I have ascertained that I can get a nice room at the Holiday Inn for around
$65.00...that leaves $123.00 a day for beer, food (room service), > laundry,
gratuities and special TV movies. They have a swimming pool, a workout room,
a lounge, washer, dryer, etc. Most have free toothpaste and razors, and all
have free shampoo and soap.
Super 8 is somewhat more economical and they have a free breakfast, though you
usually have to walk next door for lunch and dinner.
There may be a bit of a wait to get that first floor room, but that's OK, it
takes months to get into decent nursing homes. There is the Senior Bus, the
Handicap bus (if you fake a decent limp), a Church bus or van, cabs, and even
a regular bus. For a change of lunch take the Airport Bus and eat at one of
the fast food cafe's there.
The Inn has security, and if someone sees you drop over, they will call an ambulance.
And should you break a hip, the American Way is to Sue. What more can you ask
for?
As a bonus, they all have AARP and other Senior discounts.
So:
When I reach the Golden age help me keep my grin Just check my old rickety butt
into the nearest Holiday Inn!
A
blonde pushes her BMW into a gas station.
She tells the mechanic the engine died.
After he works on it for a few minutes, it is idling smoothly.
She says, "What's the story?"
He replies, "Just crap in the carburetor"
She asks, "How often do I have to do that?"
A
police officer stops a blonde for speeding and
asks her very nicely if he
could see her license.
She replied in a huff, "I wish you guys would get
your act together. Just yesterday you take away
my license and then today you expect me to
show it to you!"
A
blonde is walking down the street with her blouse
open and her right breast hanging out.
A policeman approaches her and says,"Ma'am, are you
aware that I could cite you for indecent exposure?"
She says, "Why officer?" "
Because your breast is hanging out." he says.
She looks down and says, "OH MY GOD, I left the baby
on the bus again!"
There's
this blonde out for a walk. She comes to a
river and sees another blonde on the opposite bank.
"Yoo-hoo!" she shouts, "How can I get to the other side?"
The second blonde looks up the river then down the river and shouts back,
"You ARE on the other side."
A
highway patrolman pulled alongside a speeding car
on the freeway. Glancing at the car, he was astounded
to see that the blonde behind the wheel was knitting!
Realizing that she was oblivious to his flashing lights
and siren, he trooper cranked down his window, turned
on his bullhorn and yelled, "PULL OVER!"
"NO!" the blonde yelled back, "IT'S A SCARF!"
A
Russian, an American, and a Blonde were talking
one day. The Russian said, "we were the first in space!"
The American said, "We were the first on the moon!"
The Blonde said, "So what? We're going to be the
first on the sun!"
The Russian and the American looked at each other
and shook their heads. "You can't land on the sun, you idiot!
You'll burn up!" said the Russian.
To which the Blonde replied, "We're not stupid, you know.
We're going at night!"
A
blonde was playing Trivial Pursuit one night. It was her turn.
She rolled the dice and she landed on Science & Nature.
Her question was, "If you are in a vacuum and someone calls
your name, can you hear it?"
She thought for a time and then asked, "Is it on or off?"
The
blonde reported for her university final
examination that consists of yes/no type questions.
She takes her seat in the examination hall, stares
at the question paper for five minutes and then, in a fit of
inspiration, takes out her purse, removes a coin and starts
tossing the coin, marking the answer sheet:
Yes, for Heads, and No, for Tails. Within half an
hour she is all done, whereas the rest of the class
is still sweating it out.
During the last few minutes she is seen desperately
throwing the coin, muttering and sweating.
The moderator, alarmed, approaches her and asks
what is going on.
"I finished the exam in half an hour, but now I'm
rechecking my answers."
THE BLONDE JOKE TO END ALL BLONDE JOKES!
A
girl was visiting her blond friend who had acquired two
new dogs, and asked her what their names were.
The blonde responded by saying that one was named
Rolex and one was named Timex.
Her friend said, "Whoever heard of someone naming
dogs like that?"
"HelOOOooo," answered the blond. "They're watch dogs!"
I've
learned that no matter how much I care, some people are just jackasses.
I've learned that it takes years to build up trust, and it only takes suspicion,
not proof, to destroy it.
I've learned that whatever hits the fan will not be evenly distributed.
1. If you are choking on an ice cube, don't panic. Simply pour a cup of boiling water down your throat and presto! The blockage will be almost instantly removed.
2. Clumsy? Avoid cutting yourself while slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold them while you chop away.
3. Avoid arguments with the misses about lifting the toilet seat by simply using the sink.
4. High blood pressure sufferers: simply cut yourself and bleed for a while, thus reducing the pressure in your veins.
5. A mouse trap, placed on top of your alarm clock, will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep when you hit the snooze button.
6. If you have a bad cough, take a large dose of laxatives, then you will be afraid to cough.
7. Have a bad toothache? Hit your thumb with a hammer, then you will forget about the toothache.
8. Sometimes We Just Need To Remember What The Rules of Life Really Are...You need only two tools: WD-40 and Duct Tape. If it doesn't move and it should, use WD-40. If it moves and shouldn't, use the duct tape.
9. Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.
10. If You Woke up Breathing, Congratulations! You have another chance!
The
following is an actual question given on a University of
Washington chemistry mid-term. The answer by one student was so
"profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the
Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying
it as well.
=====================================================
Bonus Question:
Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?
====================================================
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law
(gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some
variant.
One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So
we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the
rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that
once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave.
Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering
Hell, let's look at the different Religions that exist in the world
today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of
their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of
these religions and since people do not belong to more than one
religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell.
With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of
souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of
change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order
for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of
Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added. This gives two
possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which
souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will
increase until all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls
in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes
over.
So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa
during my Freshman year that, "it will be a cold day in Hell before I
sleep with you, and take into account the fact that I slept with her
last night, then number 2 must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is
exothermic and has already frozen over.
The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it
follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore,
extinct...leaving only Heaven thereby proving the existence of a divine
being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God."
THIS STUDENT RECEIVED THE ONLY "A"
There
have been several versions of this Texas Chili Judging story that have circulated
the Internet one is funnier than the next. If you haven't seen this before,
it is hysterical! If you can read this whole story without laughing, then there's
no hope for you. I was crying by the end!
Note: Please take time to read this slowly. If you pay attention to the first
two judges, the reaction of the third judge is even better.
For those of you who have lived in Texas, you know how true this is. They actually have a Chili Cook-off about the time Halloween comes around. It takes up a major portion of a parking lot at the San Antonio City Park. Judge #3 was an inexperienced Chili taster named Frank, who was visiting from Springfield, IL.
Frank: "Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment, and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking for directions to the Coors Light truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy, and besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted."
Here are the scorecard notes from the event:
CHILI # 1 - MIKE'S MANIAC MONSTER CHILI
Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge # 2 -- Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.
Judge # 3 (Frank) -- Holy shit, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy!
CHILI # 2 - AUSTIN'S AFTERBURNER CHILI...
Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.
Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.
CHILI # 3 - FRED'S FAMOUS BURN DOWN THE BARN CHILI...
Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick.
Judge # 2 -- A bit salty, good use of peppers.
Judge # 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting shit-faced from all of the beer.
CHILI # 4 - BUBBA'S BLACK MAGIC...
Judge # 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.
Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the beer maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-LB woman is starting to look HOT...just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?
CHILI # 5 LISA'S LEGAL LIP REMOVER...
Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
Judge # 2 -- Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks.
CHILI # 6 - VERA'S VERY VEGETARIAN VARIETY...
Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.
Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
Judge # 3 -- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. I shit on myself when I farted and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that Sally. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my ass with a snow cone.
CHILI # 7 - SUSAN'S SCREAMING SENSATION CHILI...
Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. **I should take note that I am worried about Judge # 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.
Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing it's too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.
CHILI # 8 - BIG TOM'S TOENAIL CURLING CHILI...
Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor feller, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili?
Judge # 3 -- No Report
The first thing you should know is that hair removal is not my friend. The particular talent of removing unwanted hair has eluded me. All methods have tricked me with their promises of easy, painless removal. The Epilady, the standard razor, the scissors, Nair, the EpilStop, and now .... The Wax. THIS IS A CONSIDERABLY LONG E-MAIL, BUT IT IS WELL WORTH THE TIME.
My night began as any other normal weekday night. I came home from work, fixed dinner for myself and watched TV for a while. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next couple of hours: "maybe I should use that wax in my medicine cabinet."
So I headed to the site of my demise, um, I mean bathroom. It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart, press it on your leg (or wherever) and ignore the frantically rising crescendo of string instruments in the background. No muss, no fuss.
How hard can this be? I mean, I'm not the girly-est of girls but I'm mechanically inclined so maybe I can figure out how this works. At least you'd think so. So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other, stuck together.
I'm supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and soften the wax (I'm guessing). I go one better. I pull out the hair dryer and heat the SOB to ten thousand degrees.
Cold wax, my ass. (Oh, how that phrase will come back to haunt me.) I lay the strip across my thigh. I hold the skin around it and pull. OK, so it wasn't the best feeling in the world, but it wasn't bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am Sheera, fighter of all wayward body hair and smooth skin extraordinary! With my next wax strip, I move north. I sneak into the bathroom for The Ultimate Hair Fighting Championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I then apply the wax strip across the right side on my bikini line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching up into the inside of the right ass cheek. (Yeah, it was a long strip.)
I inhale deeply. I brace myself. RRRIIIIPPP!!!! I'm blind! Blind from the pain! Vision returning. Oh crap. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the strip. Another deep breath. And RIIIP! Everything is swirly and tie-dyed? Do I hear crashing drums? OK, coming back to normal again.
I want to see my trophy - my wax covered pelt that caused me so much agony. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold the wax strip like an Olympic gold medallist.
But why is there no hair on it? Why is the wax mostly gone? Where could the wax go, if not on the strip? Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the toilet. I see hair - the hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I feel. I am touching wax. I look to the ceiling and silently shout "nooooooo!!" And realize I have just begun living my own personal version of The Tar Baby.
I peel my fingers off the softest, most sensitive part of my body that is now covered in cold wax and matted hair, and make the next big mistake - up until this point, you'll remember, I've had my foot on the toilet. I know I need to move, to do something. So I put my foot down on the floor. And then I hear the slamming of the cell door.
Vagina? .... Sealed shut.
Ass? ...... Sealed shut.
A little voice in my head says "I hope you don't have to shit anytime soon. Your head just might pop off."
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying desperately to figure out what I should do next. Hot water! Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest water I can stand and get in - the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it away, right?
Wrong. I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than is used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment. And I sit.
Now the only thing worse than having your goodies glued together is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of a tub. In scalding hot water. Which, by the way, does not melt the cold wax.
So now I'm stuck to the tub. I call my friend because she once dropped out of beauty school so surely she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off skin. It's never good to start a conversation with "So my ass and whohoo are stuck to the tub."
She doesn't have a trick. She does her best to suppress laughter. She wants to know exactly where the wax is on the ass "Are we talking cheek or hole, here?" she asks. She isn't even trying to hide the giggles now.
I give her the run-down of the entire night. She tells me to call the number on the side of the box, but to have a good cover story for where the wax actually is. You know that if we were working the help line at XXX Wax Co. and somebody called with their entire crack sealed shut we'd just put them on hold then record the conversation for everyone we know. You're going to end up on a radio show or the internet if you tell them the truth.
While we go through various solutions, I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Boy, nothing feels better to the girly goodies than covering them in wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water and THEN dry shaving the sticky wax off!
In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably turned to other subjects!) I find the little, beautiful saving grace that is the lotion provided with wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and start screaming "It's working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations from my friend and we hang up. I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to my dismay, that the hair is still there. So I shaved the damned stuff off.
Hell, I was numb by that point anyway. And then I put the box of wax back in my medicine cabinet. Never know when a mustache might start to come in.
Tonight, I attempt hair dying.
[Ed. I am so glad I'm not a female. The horrible shit they have to go through is just unimaginable.]
Last Updated: Sunday, 03/06/2005 3:00 AM