feeling sexy without being touched

I wish I could find the first record of a woman shaving her vagina so I know where - and when - this trend began. If it's the result of modern pornography then I'm going to throw a tantrum.

The concept of shaving the part of the body which is located at the exact opposite end from one's head is preposterous.

At least with the legs I can bring them to within an acute angle to my eyes.

No room for error, either. You don't "accidentally" do anything. You don't do a hasty job, you know.

Fortunately there is nothing as obstructive as an ankle to have to navigate around. For ankles and knees are nearly impossible to shave without the occassional cut.

Until the Venus razor, that is. I tell you it works, friends.

Despite all the principles I have against the activity. All the grievances I have. All the virginal and otherwise dateless nights I spend. Despite all the contortions for a successful shave I bemoan, I still maintain.

Nothing about myself confuses me more.

I suppose I'm used to it.

Speaking of fresh shaves: tomorrow I'm going to Boston to see my sex-slaves. I arrive at 1:20 and told scanzilla he had three hours to find me a blunt. I don't smoke blunts, but I cracked myself up with that one because for some reason I will never grow weary of 4:20 jokes.

Or "your mama" jokes.

Or "that's what my prom date said."

Hahha. I'm laughing right now just thinking about them.

Sonuvabitch rain.

I look best in sunlight and candlelight.

Not halflight and lamplight.

But who's lookin, right?