Love Hurts

I wonder what caused women to begin the neverending and sometimes thankless task of pruning themselves and driving men crazy?

I mean manicures, pedicaures, botox and implants and make up that costs enough to feed a small town in outer Mongoli, and that excludes the fashion sense. Now now gentlemen, we are just as guilty and those that are not are more than likely in a long standing relationship or marriage and their partners have simply given up on them.

My journey into the Gentle Art of Beautification began when I first realised that there were creatures who lived amongst us that did not wrestle for an oblong leather ball and partake of such rituals as burping national anthems and lighting methane bursts. They were smaller, smelled different and hung around in gangs that either ignored or giggled at you. Thus began my first trip into my Dads wardrobe and I discovered the world of Old Spice and Blue Stratus, firmly believing that too much was better than too little, I could be smelled from a mile away.

My amazement was complete when I observed that not all the young ladies threw themselves at me and admired my aftershave ridden body, this I came to know as playing "Hard to Get".

But from humble beginnings I progressed to higher levels of pruning like a gaming junkie. Cut my toe nails and finger nails and didnt use them as toothpicks, had regular hair cuts and discovered shower gel.

Following my divorce, I had my first manicure and pedicure and enjoyed the relaxing pampering I received, lo and behold I found I was still straight and that these experiences had not turned me into a gay man instantly.

And then it started to get a little more intense. Nicole my daughter my 13 year old angel convinced me to shave my chest!!!!!! I did so without removing my nipples and for a week I was so itchy that I wanted to rip my shirt off and pound my naked chest like King Kong. That has now been forgotten and the hair returneth.

But was that enough?

No of course not.

I heard of the term "manscaping" where one basically trims the hair down under and provides a better, less primitive attraction for purposes of this blog. I decided to approach the area concerned with a beard trimmer and with the vigour of a puppy charging a porcupine.

I gasped, hesitated and at the first sight of blood dropped the Remington butchering device and crossed my legs. This action was supposed to remove the sudden stinging pain that came from cut treasures.
DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!!!

The bath that followed and the 2 days of anxious walking and carefull sitting was a rude reminder that some actions need to be left to professionals.
My now scarred and tender manscaped adventure has to end for now.

Nite All