The World According to JP

I just received this email. I usually don't post these, but it's so funny I can't resist.

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All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy,
painless removal - The epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax.
My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play
with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind
for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the
medicine cabinet." So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It
was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just
rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart
and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right
off.


No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am
mechanically inclined enough to figure this out.


So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other
stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I
get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax,"
yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it
tight and pull. It works!


OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this, I
told myself! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of
all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire. With my next
wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the
bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship.

I drop my underwear and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same
procedure, I apply the was strip across the right side of my bikini line,
covering the right half of my who-ha and stretching down to the inside of
my butt cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace
myself....


RRRRIIIPPP!!!! I'm blind!!! Blind from the pain!!!!....


OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to
pull off half the strip. CRAP!!! Another deep breath and RRIIPP!!
Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay
conscious...Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to
normal. I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has
caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel
in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip!
There's no hair on it.


Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX??? Slowly I ease my head down, foot
still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the
strip. I touch. I am touching wax. CRAP! I run my fingers over the most
sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted
hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake... (remember my foot is still
propped up on the toilet?) I know need to do something. So I put my foot
down. DAMN!!!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door. Who-ha? Sealed
shut! Butt?? Sealed shut! I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to
figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the
urge to pee. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax? Hot
water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into
the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt
and I can gently wipe it off, right???


*WRONG!!!!!!!


I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture
prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit. Now, the only
thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them
glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot
water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.


So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied
myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few
months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!! I call my friend,
thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me
undone. It's a very good conversation starter: "So, my butt and who-ha are
glued together to the bottom of the tub!" There is a slight pause. She
doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her
laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are
we talking cheeks or what?" She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear
her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side
of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's
night.

While we go through various solutions, I resort to scraping the wax off
with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered
in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then
dry-shaving the sticky wax off!! By now the brain is not working, dignity
has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic
Stress counseling for this event. My friend is still talking with me when I
finally see my saving grace...the lotion they give you to remove the excess
wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and… OH MY
GOD!!!!!!! The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of
my friend. It's sooo painful, but I really don't care. "IT WORKS!! It
works!!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I
successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief
and despair...THE HAIR IS STILL THERE…ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. So I
recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have
amputated my own leg at this point. Next week I'm going to try hair
color......
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Not many things can give me a case of the shakes. I watch all sorts of twisted shit (like Saw and I will see Saw 2 when it comes out), love haunted houses and have even been to my fair share of Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios in Orlando, but nothing has ever given me the heebie jeebies like this freak.

Click At Your Own Risk

Seriously, it's bad enough to be raped, but imagine being raped by that dude. I'm sure he's had a hard life, but everything feeling I get when I look at this guy tells me to kill it. Just end it. He'll be happier and so will the citizens of Ohio.

He's been dealt a bad hand. He should fold. Seriously.

Yeesh. I have to go take a shower now.
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Ok, it's really not going to be that severe. I mean, the whole world isn't in peril. Or maybe it is, I don't know anymore. I know my world is changing by the minute.

Here's what's going on:

1. I am experiencing a raging case of writer's block when it comes to this place. I mean, this shit used to flow effortlessly and now it's forced, contrived really. Hopefully whatever's clogging up my brain will extricate itself soon.

2. I am not only ultra-busy at work, but at home and play too. It seems like I've had no time to do anything at all but work, take care of household stuff or play ball. Yes, I know ball is an extra curricular activity, but it keeps me sane. Or some semblance of sane anyhow.

3. I'm going through the big D and I don't mean Dallas. Yes, that's right, I'm about to become an ex-husband and single father. And my wife is about to become an ex-wife and a single mother. I don't want to talk about it any further.

4. I'm looking for a place to live until I buy a permanent residence after it's all over with.

Ok, I thought there were 5 things, but I guess not. Anyhow, that's what's up. I think my once abundant fountain of rage is drying up. I'm not sure. Maybe it's just stress. Whatever it is, I hope it goes the fuck away very soon.

Have a great weekend, everyone.
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Every week the New Yorker has a caption contest. Here's this week's entry. Somehow, I don't think the caption I entered will make the cut. Feel free to add your own in my comments section.




"Sweet Jesus! These bitches make my pink thing stick out."
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I love the smell of freshly baked Eagles in the morning. Love seeing them at the bottom of the standings.






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The Dallas Cowboys sure were. Rack the everlovin' hell out of them. They came to play. Hopefully with Bledsoe at the helm and Jones in the backfield, it'll be a great season.











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Yes, it was a great weekend. A well-deserved, nice long weekend. Good 'ol JP has been working his little ass off and needed some time off before he flipped out on his fellow co-workers.

First, it was off to the Mariners-Yankees game. Great game. Actually, any game is great where the Yankums lose handily. In the 6th inning, the starting pitcher for the Yankees was injured. When it happened, we were screened by a beer guy, so I didn't get to see exactly what happened. When he came out of the game, I yelled "You pussy, where are you going? Get back in there." Come to find out the poor guy broke his collarbone. Yeah, I felt bad when I found that out. But then I remembered he plays for the Yankmes, so I stopped feeling bad. Sell your soul to the devil and you deserve whatever you get.



I followed that up by spending the weekend in Long Beach, Washington playing softball. Yes, we kicked a little ass. Won the tournament easily. There was really nobody there to challenge us. Here's a picture of the winning team.



After that, it was back to the campsite to drink a little beer and play a little beach football. Yes, my team kicked a little ass in that game too, not that I'm competitive or anything. Here's a picture of the participants.

After the game, I had sand in places I'd forgotten I had. Chaffing really sucks. But, then it was a drunken late night, followed by an early morning to head back to reality.

On the way back home, we stopped to help a lady that had run her car off the road. Seems she had a faulty insulin pump and had given herself too much. We ended up taking her dog to her husband, who didn't seem all that concerned. Must happen all the time.

When that was over, it was time to get back to reality. The boys started school yesterday and my "inbox" at work was overflowing.

Hopefully, this weekend will be just as fun....if not a little shorter.
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