After having been told the hair around my ahole and ball sack needed tidying I decided to take the plunge and do a brazillian. Previous shaving attempts had only been mildly successful and I definitely wasn’t going anywhere near the rusty sheriffs badge with a razor. I ordered some hair removal cream from the internet, thinking if ladies use it, it must be ok.
I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went to the bathroom. Warnings on the product suggested testing a small area first. For wimps thought I. Initially, all went well and I applied the cream and stood waiting for something to happen. I didn’t have long to wait.
At first, there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on removal of my genitalia. Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the man hole and what seemed like the melting of the meat and two veg. Struggling not to bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the cream off in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom down into the kitchen, by this time walking was impossible and I crawled the final feet to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief. I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid off and positioned it under me. The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing returned. Due to the shape of the ice cream tub, I hadn’t managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the draw for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon. I grabbed a bag of frozen carrots and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my ass. This was not doing the trick as some of the cream had found its way up the ring piece and it felt like the space shuttle was running its engines behind me.
This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to ease the pain. The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the carrots where no veg had gone before.
Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my manhood pushing a frozen carrot up my poop shute while muttering “ooooh that feels good” Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream which caused an involuntary spasm of shock which resulted in the carrot being ejected at quite some speed in her direction. I can understand that having a carrot fired into your eye at 11 at night probably wasn’t the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day her shiner and the strange hollow in the ice cream didn't improve my status…so to sum it up, VEET removes hair, dignity, and self-respect!
went Into the Royal Sick Kids Edinburgh yesterday evening and brought my daughter and grand daughter home ,
The wee one is very weak but appears to be on the mend and mum is shattered ,
Went into work early today and gave my truck a thorough clean ,came home at 12*30,
This afternoon I went into the western general hospital and have just returned home with my son in law who is also very very weak and will be for a while .
The bonus is my grandkids have mum and dad home for the first time in a while ( melt yer heart ) it would
Here’s a snap of Macy my granddaughter sleeping ,she is a lot better than snap portrays her ,bless them fingers crossed we’re on the up at last
I caught this hilarious radio programme by accident last night when I was doing my marathon cooking session.
It helps if you're a Radio 2 listener anyway but I lost count of the number of times it made me laugh out loud.
For those not in the know, everyone on this programme is fake, from the pretend Jeremy Vine to the 'stars' who call him... only the music is real. Enjoy!
Thanks very much the wee one is back in sick kids tomorrow for blood cell checks etc. But she is a great deal better and thank you very much for your extremely kind words and we return the same best wishes to you and yours
Regards Gordon and fiona