NL- Funny story, but don’t read while eating…
Why I Haven’t Written Anything and Why I Will Never Shave Again!
Op/ED by Jade Sophia Lost Butterfly
Just to let all my readers know: I have been “suffering” of late, from an ingrown-hair turned staff-infection. One Doctor told me that: “you have to wax your bikini area from now on!”: “who knew?” So I just watched a “pimple” turn into Mount Saint Hellenes, (hope that’s spelled right?)]
So I went to see a Doctor that my X-sugar-daddy whose been twice-removed from my life had “recommended” because in his words: “the man saved his life?” I guess God spared his life because that Doctor couldn’t save a cat from falling-off a very small bushes-short-limb. So the Doctor told me that: “I MUST WAX!” And of course my dumb-ass just had to ask this smart-ass Jewish Doctor: “WHY?” He said: “It’s either waxing or going threw this same painful-shit again, and I know you don’t want that?” Nope! So I checked out the prices for a bikini wax and in my area that shit ain’t cheap, next I went to my neighborhood mall’s beauty-supply and bought the Brazilian-Waxing-kit. I was happy because it only cost $21.00 dollars vs $60 dollars: “YES!” ( more about the waxing later.)
Doctor quack said: “that I’d probably need to see a surgeon at a dermatologists office in 7 days,” because he said [I doubt(he mentions how the surgeon is his friend, whom he’s sending me too, “whom charges $200 and up! With me having no insurance.”) that the zit that you have on your leg, will not go away without surgery.] “Lucky me!” In the mean time the (*super-zit*) or (*boil*) was getting, bigger and bigger! I did everything that the Doctor told me to do and “nothing worked!” I was so “desperate” and in “serious pain” that my crazy (desperate for any kind of relieve) ass, took a razor blade to the super-zit: the first cut “nothing”, no blood, no puss, nothing, and I had too cut “DEEP”, we’re not talking about next to the surface kind of super-zit, we’re talking about past all the layers of skin zit: “hell ya it hurt!” But it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would? So finally, by the third cut the super-zit started to bleed. “It took 20 something pieces of toilet paper and 2 paper towels before it stopped bleeding” (It was still huge!).
Everybody is always dissing AIM, well I went to a “GOOD”, regular/non sexual disease Doctor, who had “miss-diagnosed” my condition: as an ingrown hair, he told me I was a center for “bacteria growth” and that this was NOT-CONTAGIOUS? NO TESTS–NOTHING! So two days after the attempt at relief, which only made my super-zit “mad” because it just got: “BIGGER AND BIGGER!”
So what was I to do?
Wait till it grew a head and a couple of leg’s like the alien, and tore out of my bikini area killing me instantly?
NO! I decided to do the educated thing, and get a “second opinion,” that’s when I decided on seeing the AIM Doctor, I just happened to have Doctor Quacks name on the prescription bottle he prescribed for me: when the AIM Doctor found out what Doctor Quack had given me and why, he told me: “well he misdiagnosed you! You have a STAFF INFECTION, and you’ll have to finish taking the Antibiotics he gave you, and take the Antibiotics I give you too, which were the size of horse pill’s… YES! (that’s when I realized, that this month has really “SUCKED” health-wise for me.)
So I was taking two Antibiotics until last Wednesdayay, and still have 2 more days to go… LUCKY ME!
Anyway: because of all of the Antibiotics this super-sized-zit grew to “mountainous proportions”: so I decided, when I was looking at a safety-pin, that I could make little holes in the supper-zit because I don’t like razor-blades, not like the sterilized-safety-pin was any better? Which it wasn’t! One hole nothing–two holes nothing–three holes nothing, (mind you that it takes a whole hell of a lot of strength to get past the skin and flesh, so when you get there you’ll feel a pop: on the forth hole it started oozing out of me, and didn’t stop till 15 minutes later?)
I thought the super-zit was just going to get “bigger”, that’s when I decided to use Apple vinegar on it, (vinegar kills most bacteria, except it hurts like a “MOTHER FUCKER”, so I’m jumping up an down on one foot and then on the other– praying– but I never cry about painful stuff, I just curse a lot and moan.)
I did this on the same day (*sugar-daddy*) decided that he’s going to go to Victoria Secret and buy me an outfit so we could “role-play” and have sex: “which didn’t piss me off at first, but I was in a lot of pain, and felt like the most “unattractive woman” on the face of the planet, (he was going to throw money on me? Like that mattered with the way I was feeling?) and if he hadn’t looked like something my cat hacked-up, and then re-ate and re-hacked-backup “almost everything might have been OK,” accept for my oozing-infectious-super-zit: “so thinking about an old-drunkard trying to role-play with me (when I’m sick) really wasn’t making his money look very appealing,” so I called him because it’s not just about the money with him, he also keeps telling me: “he loves me over and over?” Which is super creepy!
Too bad the best thing about him is the way he plays piano, now if we were having sex while he was playing–being with him, might be bearable (I’d have to be blind: he’s an out of control drunk, who can’t drink alone, and “I don’t want to drink anymore,” whose also a sex-alcoholic, “whose never ever satisfied,” and makes #### whose another x-idiot look like an angel in comparison. (Sugar-daddy even told me, I could tie him up and do things to him? LUCKY ME?) I’d be laughing about this, if it wasn’t me who had been involved, (yes, I did role him, plus he bought me all kinds of GIFT’S… Why? Because I wasn’t going to be with a dude, who smelled like booze, looked like shit, and was constantly-bugging me for sex all the time for free. That’s not to say, that I didn’t appreciate the cash-donations because I did: “except now I have a deep-seeded fear of the vibrator called the rabbit?”)
But when he asked me to marry him 7 times in one day, and he looked like the “cookie monster” after someone stole all his cookies after I said “NO”: that’s when I had had it! I don’t know? Maybe there are some really desperate women in the world, but I’m not one of them, so I said NO seven-times, and was asked (why?) all seven times: my answer was: “I’m not ready to get married yet! That’s why!” (Plus: I didn’t love him, I don’t love him, was the other reason.)
So back to the phone conversation: “he told me that every time he does something nice (for himself!) for me: I always ruin it? “Well if I’m not going to see you, what am I going to do with this outfit? I said: “TAKE IT BACK!” I said all you want is “SEX” and that this relationship isn’t about love, it’s about SEX and MONEY! I told him that I couldn’t have sex with him because the day before the AIM doctor told me I was infectious, which I told him about the day before. Maybe he hadn’t been paying attention to me when I said: “I guess you’d rather fuck me at my personal-discomfort and make yourself vulnerable to an infection? Rather then just waiting till I’m better because: “you really love me?” Ya, right! So at that point with 2 different antibiotics coursing threw my blood stream, and having stabbed myself 12 times with a disinfected safety pin, I told him: “shove your money up your ass and leave me alone!” Then I hung up my cellphone on his ass! After which I immediately changed my cell-number, so Mr. Stalker/obsessed with me: “would leave me alone.” What does that say? “ that Money can’t buy you love!”
Here comes the fun part for me, myself and I: I thought that self-waxing the Vagina would be easy? Well there’s a reason why those Tai and Chinese women who wax people make $60 bucks a session, because it’s really hard to do it too yourself. The instructions say: heat-wax on high for 30 seconds and check to see if wax is melted by breaking threw the waxy top, that was easy enough. The next step was to cleanse the area with the antiseptic that’s included in the kit and blot dry (easy!), and then use the oil that was included in the kit (easy!).
I decided to start with the top of my bikini area the directions said: “hold the skin down in the opposite direction, and pull in one hard motion–pulling off the wax.” The wax and the hair is MAGICALLY gone.” Oh, if only it had been that simple, I peeled away ever so slowly–a little of the wax and attempted to pull away the hair (a woman’s pubic area is a very sensitive area). I “SCREAMED” as I’m sitting on top of my toilet’s toilet seat: it looked like I was a guinea-pig in some sick-experiment by some mad scientist–gone wrong and my super-zit from hell: “started bleeding everywhere” while I was in the process of the “MAD-WAX”, legs-sprawled, wax on the floor and reaching for the green- wax with a “giant Popsicle stick”: that looks like what Doctors use to look at people’s tonsils.
I actually started sweating from the pain (I thought cutting myself was painful, I thought stabbing myself with a safety pin was painful): “nothing compared to the PAIN of waxing.” One little wax strip after another, until “finally” my whole-bikini-area was hair free, “I jumped up and down with joy”: “I was on top of the world, and felt like NOTHING could stop me now!” I had mastered the pain of waxing, and have decided that I’m brave enough to wax my legs too. YES! We’re talking about “FUN-TIMES” now? “I guess the guys who are left in my life, will be happy about the waxing?”
In conclusion: shaving leads to ingrown hairs that can turn into staff infections: “which suck!” And on the flip-side: “waxing really sucks!” I don’t have any advice for my readers accept, (don’t try being a Doctor with a razor-blade or safety pin at your house.) I might still have to have the surgery anyway? Hopefully not, I’ll see what the Doctor at AIM says, I’m going back Monday, wish me luck.
