Veet & Ice cream

This has probably been posted before but my mother sent it to me yesterday and she could hardly speak from laughing so much!

June 2013 at 13:55 ·



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 and 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 ~


I’m at work, half way through paragraph 3 and have had to stop reading as I can see the laughing getting beyond control!! 

 I will be back later!

Oh, yeah, those are great. There’s actually plenty of other great reviews of this product on amazon (including the one OP shared with us).

A new lease on life
By"Bad" Ideaon September 11, 2012

"For years i had wondered what little Jim (because you go there for a work
out) would look like with a new and stylish hair cut. Stephan, my hair
dresser, has always recommended that I get my eye brows waxed as he
claims it would open up my eyes and remove 10 to 15 pounds of hair from
my brow, easing strain on my neck and preventing scratching my corneas

So i thought, why stop at the eye brows. Surely Jim deserves a
new lease on life as well. I mean, he gets very hot in there and begins
to smell like a giants sock that got left in the corner of the bathroom
for two weeks following playing in a mud puddle.

As any male would do, I paid off reading the label. If i didn’t read
them when replacing the brakes on my grandmas 1992 Pintara, I certainly
wouldn’t for this. Setting myself up for success, I attempted this after
enjoying six scotches (to numb the pain) and lowered myself into a dry
bath with the plan of banging on the water when the time was up to scrub
away what resembled tom seleck wearing an oversized spider on his head.
I imagined the warm water rushing over the smooth as eggs marbles and a
deceptively bigger looking Jim. Jim would frolic in the water while I
lavished attention on him, and we would be the happier for it.

Needless to say, 30 mins later i woke up to a piercing scream
that sounded somewhere between Alanis Morrisette singing opera and a
baboon that just ate its own turd for the first time. It took me a few
minutes to realise that this sound was emitting from my own throat. Jim
now resembled a midget in a bright red swim suit cowering in fear in the
corner of a room, sitting on an equally bright red bean bag.

It has now been 2 weeks. The medicated hand lotion that I rub into the
team hourly has eased most of the pain. Pants are now able to be worn
when moving around without Jim causing my brain to implode, and he is
now able to be handled without the use of a soft felt cloth, cotton
balls and a lot of TLC.

All in all, I would recommend the experience to all. It now
looks like two slightly sunburnt looking “`Mini-me’s” hanging below a
more resourceful, more dynamic, more capable and certainly a well
groomed Jim. Of a side note, both my parents and the treating doctors at
the emergency ward commented on how smooth and well groomed the package
looks. It’s a shame the rest of my body still looks like the wolf man
having sex with a Yeti."

By Randy Amaruson May 11, 2012

“Being a loose cannon who does not play by the rules the first thing I
did was ignore the warning and smear this all over my knob and bollocks.
The bollocks I knew and loved are gone now. In their place is a maroon
coloured bag of agony which sends stabs of pain up my body every time it
grazes against my thigh or an article of clothing. I am suffering so
that you don’t have to. Heed my lesson. DO NOT PUT ON KNOB AND BOLLOCKS.”


Everyone has done it once… cries laughing hahahahaha!!