OverNeath
Jun 6, 2013, 5:36 AM
A friend sent this to me and it cracked me up..thought I would share
After having been told my danglies looked
like an elderly Rastafarian I decided to take
the plunge and buy some of this, as previous
shaving attempts had only been mildly
...successful. I nearly put my back out trying to
reach the more difficult bits. Being a bit of a
romantic I thought I would do the deed on
the missus's birthday as a bit if a treat.
I ordered it well in advance and working in
the North Sea, I considered myself a bit
above some of the characters writing the
previous reviews and wrote them off as soft
office types...Oh my fellow sufferers how
wrong I was. I waited until the other half
was tucked up in bed and after giving some
vague hints about a special surprise I went
down to the bathroom. Initially all went well
and I applied the gel 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 hitting the
ceiling with my head. 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 turd tunnel and what seemed like the the
destruction of the meat and two veg.
Struggling not to bite through my bottom lip
I tried to wash the gel 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 across the
hall into the kitchen, by this time walking
was not really possible and I crawled the
final yard 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,
toe 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 what I later found out was
frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be
quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them
and an tried in vain to clench some between
the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing
the trick as some of the gel had found its
way up the chutney channel 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 in order to ease the pain.
The only solution my pain crazed mind could
come up with was to gently ease one of the
sprouts 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
bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while
muttering “ooooohhh that feels good”
Understandably this was a shock to her and
she let out a scream and as I hadn’t heard
her come in it caused an involuntary spasm
of shock in myself which resulted in the
sprout being ejected at quite some speed in
her direction. I can understand that having a
sprout fired against your leg at 11 at night in
the kitchen probably wasn’t the special
surprise she was expecting and having to
explain to the kids the next day what the
strange hollow in the ice cream was didn’t
improve my status…so to sum it up, VEET
removes hair, dignity and self-respect!
After having been told my danglies looked
like an elderly Rastafarian I decided to take
the plunge and buy some of this, as previous
shaving attempts had only been mildly
...successful. I nearly put my back out trying to
reach the more difficult bits. Being a bit of a
romantic I thought I would do the deed on
the missus's birthday as a bit if a treat.
I ordered it well in advance and working in
the North Sea, I considered myself a bit
above some of the characters writing the
previous reviews and wrote them off as soft
office types...Oh my fellow sufferers how
wrong I was. I waited until the other half
was tucked up in bed and after giving some
vague hints about a special surprise I went
down to the bathroom. Initially all went well
and I applied the gel 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 hitting the
ceiling with my head. 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 turd tunnel and what seemed like the the
destruction of the meat and two veg.
Struggling not to bite through my bottom lip
I tried to wash the gel 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 across the
hall into the kitchen, by this time walking
was not really possible and I crawled the
final yard 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,
toe 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 what I later found out was
frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be
quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them
and an tried in vain to clench some between
the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing
the trick as some of the gel had found its
way up the chutney channel 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 in order to ease the pain.
The only solution my pain crazed mind could
come up with was to gently ease one of the
sprouts 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
bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while
muttering “ooooohhh that feels good”
Understandably this was a shock to her and
she let out a scream and as I hadn’t heard
her come in it caused an involuntary spasm
of shock in myself which resulted in the
sprout being ejected at quite some speed in
her direction. I can understand that having a
sprout fired against your leg at 11 at night in
the kitchen probably wasn’t the special
surprise she was expecting and having to
explain to the kids the next day what the
strange hollow in the ice cream was didn’t
improve my status…so to sum it up, VEET
removes hair, dignity and self-respect!