Getting your snatch..snatched

So once a month I host this group called game time gals where we get together with our appetizers, competitive spirits and conversational topics that have no boundaries.  Trust me this group is not for the weak of heart or mind.  If your easily offended or sensitive, seek out the scrapbook club. I'm just saying.   

Not a hairy cherry!
So tonight out of no where, our gal pal Felicia (sorry girlfriend-had to put it out there) lets us in on the secret: she braved the Brazilian wax. Ugh that's not on my bucket list.  I'll take shark diving again any day over someone spatula's hot wax over my vajay-vajay and then ripping it off in sheer pleasure any day!  Anyway she was very detailed in explaining the process to those of us with shocked looks on our faces.  C'mon now surely you knew that military wives do crazy things to and we talk about it as well. I mean it's how we keep our sanity.  An occasional 1,2, 3, get that hair off of me with a shot of scotch.  I'm not really sure which surprised me more.  The fact that our friend bravely and solely took on this adventure.  That we all had a thousand questions or simply that we just fell out.  Because trust me with all the questions we asked and jokes we cracked, I assure you there's not a single one of us that will be running to the salon tomorrow to get our snatch snatched!  True Story. Did you know that your hair growth had to be at least a 1/4 inch long?  Who measures that shit. Is there a sight comparison chart or a ruler involved.  I can't believe this is an actual career field. 

Turns out it's actually a 45 minute or longer process beginning with the application of the numbing cream to the ripping cry of pain finalized with the humiliating plucking of those last few stubborn hairs.  Bonus for not screaming like a bitch you receive a complimenting facial before they trim your tree.  Paging Edward Scissorhands, paging Edward Scissorhands.  Just when you think you've seen, heard and felt it all you suddenly hear a voice that says.....

Here's the deal....flip and squeal

Yep, I said it.  Not only do you get your glorious vajay vajay waxed to your designer delights, your backtabulous backdoor is violated as well.  Here's my stance on that.  If your going to invade my space as such you better pull my hair, whisper in my ear and buy me a steak dinner too because a free facial just isn't going to cut it.  My hat's off to Felicia and everyone before her that has tried this process that supposedly last for eight weeks.  I, personally, after once trying a home wax with my girlfriend will never trespass into that foreign procedure ever, ever again. Not sir, not me.  I'll leave that to the bold and brave.  The only trauma I'll expose my privates to again is if I color my hair again,....I'll dye my snatch to match.  Rip on evil ones.   I cannot even begin to imagine how to top this conversation next month.