I am one for the nature. Ideally I will be living by the sea, owning acres of land for my liberal soul and expectant legs to roam around the greenery in halcyon happiness.
Now, the perks with being a journalist is this: sometimes we get freebies. Who doesn’t want some free press, eh? Christian Dior wants it, Megan Fox wants it, Apple wants it. A few words on paper in exchange for a zipper or a button by Christian Dior, a snotty tissue by Megan Fox, and an iPod cable from Apple. Win win, eh?
Yes, life as a journalist is good. But please, don’t punch your fists in the air and point your fingers in my face just yet.
Although the best scenario is that the givee receives some print currency and the poor hack walks away happy with two free grains of rice plus an article (while still pondering their next meal), there are other scenarios.
Most of the time — no pain, no gain. Sometimes it takes ages to sweet talk the givee so that they will let you write about their, harrumph, gems. Effort needed, but still, not too bad. And today I have encountered a nightmare situation, which is the definitive no pain, no gain.
Ministry of Waxing has opened in Hong Kong. Yes, after Ministry of Magic and Ministry of Sound we now have a Ministry of Waxing. It is a cheeky establishment who thinks that painting this sentence on the ceiling — “Brazilians are an essential rule of etiquette” — will suffice in making the procedure legitimate.
I curse, I curse the porn industry and peadophilic perverts. Who likes their garden sans grass? The British call in sick in order to sow seeds and perfect their lawn. And now you’re telling me going bald is de rigueur? Please, don’t fuck with me.
I am now standing at a crossroad, contemplating the worth of it all. Firstly, on a more shallow ground: shall I dig my head in the sand, ignore the pain, spread my legs and let them do me? Next, what is a good article worth? Finally and most importantly, will doing it and writing about it encourage a distasteful trend?
I try to search for the answer. According to wikipedia:
1. American actress Lisa Barbuscia commented on her first experience at getting a Brazilian: “It was so painful I collapsed. I only fainted, but I was nearly carted off to hospital and I have vowed never to try it again.”
So digging my head into the sand probably doesn’t help ignoring the pain at all. Not convinced?
2. There is also a health risk involved if it is not done properly, as well as a risk of infection.
3. Generally, discomfort lasts fewer than five days.
What? Still not?
4. Sometimes bumps or in-grown hair can result.
These four points pretty much answered the first two ponderous bubbles. No amount of anything in-growing can bribe me into writing a bleeding script, OK?
For the last point, I know you will be tempted to be dancing around with joy for someone intelligent to speak your mind. But really? Distasteful? I also thought about waving the feminist flag and go, “I don’t shave, I don’t shag, I don’t… and FUCK YOU for objectifying women”.
But I mean it could be a personal choice. Just like I don’t shave my pits or trim my bits. And it’s always a welcoming alternative when a company offers an “almost pain free” bikini wax. But when someone tries so hard to push their personal, commercial agenda into my belief system and start devaluing my personal lifestyle choice. I’ll say, shove your “Brazilians are an essential rule of etiquette” up your cleanly shaven ass.