Beauty and power

Before I start this post I have to apologise to the person that found my blog by googling “woman who wants to have pussy eaten”. I’m assuming this wasn’t quite what you were after, although I could probably give you a couple of names. Good luck with your quest.

So, as I was about to say, on Friday I discovered a new kind of torture that women put themselves through in the name of beauty. Electrolysis.

Holy. Hell.

I was moaning to this woman who happens to be a beauty therapist about this annoying hair that grows on my chin that is longer than all the other hairs (which are invisible because I’m a girl – let’s get that very clear). It keeps growing back and I keep pulling it out and I swear it’s getting longer to spite me.

So the beauty therapist (to be referred to from here on in as the torturer) says she can remove it permanantly with electrolysis. Great.

I went along to her torture chamber unwittingly, where she explained to me what she was going to do. That was her first mistake. I assumed she’d pinch the hair with some electric tweezers and it’d fall out. Nope. She sticks a needle right down into the hair follicle and then puts a charge through it for about 5 excrutiating seconds and then rips the hair out of the still burning hole. Throughout all of that you have to hold on to a wet sponge. That in itself made me extremely nervous.

So after the removal of the rogue hair, the torturer somehow managed to find about another 20 hairs that in my 3 decades of looking in the mirror I have never noticed. I’m sure she thought it was funny. By the time she was done I had clenched every muscle in my body for so long that I couldn’t get off her table. My jaw felt like I’d been out partying for several years non-stop.

So it’s fair to say that if I turn into one of those old women that grows a moustache, I’m just going to grin and bear it. There’s no way I’m letting someone with a needle put electricity into me again.

In retrospect, I’m fairly sure she was trying to kill me.