>It takes a great storyteller to make me laugh while a method of torture prohibited in the Geneva Conventions (well, not specifically prohibited, but it fits in with the other methods that are, so I think it is covered) is deployed, but Average Jane sent me a link to a story about a Brazilian wax gone horribly, horribly wrong at Money in a Suit, and I laughed my ass off as I read it. (I also crossed my legs and hunched protectively over my crotch, all while giggling.) The Monkey in a Suit is a fine comedy writer.
While I am not knocking women who choose to undergo Brazilian waxes, I still can't help but wonder whether it is worth the pain. Obviously it is to some, otherwise they wouldn't pay people good money to pour hot wax in their cooter, and I've heard from many women who I very much respect who feel better with a shiny waxed snatch, so I sorta get it. But I also really, really hate unnecessary pain, and really, it seems far less painful to just leave the damn hairs there. My friend Mara did once point out that too much pooter puff could possibly get tangled up or accidentally get yanked while grabbing a tampon string to unplug oneself, thus causing unpleasant ouchiness, but I'm willing to take that risk. Trimming seems reasonable, and also does not carry the potential danger of skin being ripped out, burned, or bruised. (I guess there's a small chance one could get cut, but that my advice would be not to trim while drunk, high, or distracted on the phone to lessen that possibility.)
Pubic hairs strike me as peaceful bystanders in a beauty war. (Again, I do not mean to dis women who hate body hair for whatever reason. I get that you don't like it, just like I don't like how moisturizer feel heavy on my face.) They are just minding their own business, listening to their boss (the body), and suddenly, bam! Hot wax is dumped on the unsuspecting village of fuzz. Craziness.