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Month: August 2016

Head Wax

Head Wax

Back when I noticed I was starting to lose my hair I decided to do a pre-emptive strike and shave it all off.  Mrs. Fancy-Pants (check out her blog, it’s awesome) recently made a comment on a previous post where she mentioned that her friend tried to use an Epilady on his beard.  This reminded me of the time I thought it would be easier to wax my head than shave it every day.  So I got my wife, Michele, to use some of her wax strips on me.  Wouldn’t you know it?  There is video footage of that fateful decision.  I told Mrs. FP that if I had had enough to drink I might post it.  Well, I been drinkin’ today y’all.  So here you go.  I look like a complete idiot, but if you can’t laugh at yourself, who can you laugh at?  Yea, I know you can laugh at a lot of other people, but I’m going to laugh at myself anyway.

Forget Waterboarding, just use an Epilady.

Forget Waterboarding, just use an Epilady.

All you women asked for them, all us men bought them for you in December of 1988.  As promised in an earlier post, this is my story about the Epilady.  I’m betting it is quite similar to many others.

Sometime in the fall of ’88 the below commercial was constantly on TV.  I’m sure it would have been on You Tube videos and banner ads if there had been an Interweb back then, but it was just TV.  Take a look.


You done?  Pretty sultry huh?  Just about every woman who saw that commercial thought they’d received the answer to life, the universe, and everything; or at least a miracle product that would keep them from having to shave their legs.  This marvel of modern technology quickly went on their Christmas lists and we husbands and boyfriends trotted down to Macy’s (no Amazon back then either!) to get them for you and place them under the tree.

I was one of those husbands, newly married to my first wife.  Huh?  First wife? How many have I had?  This is kind of off the subject isn’t it?  OK, OK, I’ve had three. Definitely fodder for other stories, but let’s get back on topic.  She HAD to have one of these!  Not a problem.  Macy’s was in the mall right next to Waldenbooks where I liked to hang out.  Just a short hop over and before you knew it her soon to be best friend was wrapped (I paid someone, world’s worst gift wrapper here) and under the tree.

So the magical day came when we unwrapped our gifts and she was all giddy to see her very own Epilady with it’s leather bag carry case.  She blew through her other presents, some of which I thought were much better, just so she could hurry up and go try it out.  Off to the bathroom she went.

I was in the kitchen in our small one bedroom apartment, poking around at the turkey cooking in the oven and wondering if I would get worms from sampling it too soon.  Then I heard …. MOTHER FUCKER!  At first I thought I got caught messing with the turkey, but then realized she was still in the bathroom.  I rushed in to find this…


Me: What’s wrong???

Her: This hurts like hell!

M: Oh it can’t be that bad.

H: It pulls the hair out by the root!

M: Well, yea, that’s what it says it does.

H: It said GENTLY removes it.  Not violently grabs and rips!

M: You’re a wuss.  Here, let me try it.


And that was the last time the Epilady was ever used in our house.  We could have returned it but she insisted that she would get used to it one day.  That day never came.  As a matter of fact, I ended up throwing it away and using the leather bag to store nuts and bolts.

The Epilady company sure got one over on us that year.  I’m pretty sure they didn’t sell so well after the Christmas season of ’88.  Although I heard they still made a lot of money selling them to various governments (not us, we went with waterboarding) as torture devices.


So ladies, admit it, who else fell for this?  Men, also admit it, who else called their lady a wuss and tried it on their self, only to shed an involuntary tear?

P.S. I know there are newer versions of Eiplady out there but they are kittens compared to the beast of ’88.

Coming soon to an orifice near you! It’s Buttfit!

Coming soon to an orifice near you! It’s Buttfit!

Recently my team had to work a grave yard shift (10 PM – 6 AM) for a week to do some testing on a naval radar system.  You can imagine that around 3 AM we all get a little punchy.  We fuel up on 5 hour energy, Monsters, and Slim Jims to stay awake.  In some of the down time between tests, our caffeine fueled minds get to racing and all kinds of conversations are started.

During one of these times, several of my workmates and a few sailors were talking about not getting our daily steps by sitting in front of radar consoles all night.  I then posited that it really wasn’t fair that Fitbits didn’t give you credit for the exercise you get when you are getting busy with your partner.  I know!  I’ve tried and it doesn’t count it.  Just looks at me and says you want credit for the fun you just had?  Psssshhht!

I DO want credit!  I’m no marathon man at my age anymore, but I know I am burning some calories.  I should get a pump, thrust, bang, or some type of count.  We all agreed that if the Fitbit wasn’t going to give us our due, another device should.  But then we wondered where would one wear such a device during sexy time?  Furthermore, would there need to be his and her models?  Then it hit me.  What part of the anatomy in the motion affected area is the same for women and men?  That’s right, the butthole!

Thus the BUTTFIT was born!


We started brainbuttstorming and came up with all kinds of ideas for the Buttfit.  They already have butt plugs right?  (Don’t even try to say you don’t know what that is.)  So why not have one that will count bow chicka wow wow moves?  “Hold on Ari!” you say.  “I don’t like big plugs shoved up my butt!”  No worries!  Our Buttfit will be small.  You’ll hardly even notice it’s there.  We even decided to make a self lubricating feature for the times when things dry up a bit during long periods of activity.  No need to break the mood to stop, remove, and manually lube.  Our Buttfit will sense when desert like conditions are approaching and just like that…. SPLLLTTT!  Lube will seep out of microscopic porous holes in the polyurethane skin and everything will be smooth sailing.

Ideas kept coming fast and furious.  Another feature we came up with was encouraging messages transmitted to your phone via Bluetooth.  Something like the following:

You were active for 45 minutes and made 3224 thrusts!  You’re a stud!

You rode that thang for 20 minutes for a 2562 bang count!  You go girl!

512 pumps in 5 minutes?  Done already?  She’s gonna get it from somewhere else if you don’t step it up!

As an added reward, we also decided to have our Buttfit vibrate when you reach your goal.  Because, you know, who doesn’t like a little vibration in the back end to celebrate a victory?

We didn’t forget about you when all the fun and games are over.  We are going to have a docking station charger for our Buttfit that also features an automatic cleaner!  No need to wash it by hand.  Just throw it in the docking station and before you know it, the Buttfit is charged and clean as a whistle!  We don’t recommend blowing on it like a whistle though.  Then you can just toss it in the drawer-o-fun (yes we know about that one drawer in your night stand) and it will be all ready for the next time you and your partner want to do the beast with two backs.

We are just working some of the kinks out of the Buttfit and doing beta testing (yeah!).  Soon we’ll have a Go Fund Me page for everyone that wants to support our butts!  Everyone that contributes will get one free bottle of lube for their Buttfit.  Look for it soon and get your due credit for that all nighter!

P.S. We realized that our marketing strategy only appeals to people with partners.  What about that lonely guy who has no one?  He should get credit for all that wanking don’t ya think?  We do too.  So we are working on a version for him.  Think we’ll call it Fistbit.

Like Castaway, only with less beard hair.

Like Castaway, only with less beard hair.

2016-08-04 18.49.51-2I’d like to introduce you to Tim.  Tim is my best friend.  He’s a racquetball. Yes, I’m weird, I’ve heard. Tim goes with me most everywhere. He likes to bounce along with me when I take the dog for a walk.  He likes to bounce off the wall and return to me when I sit on the couch.  He also likes to stare at me with that eternal optimistic grin of his.  Sometimes I like to squeeze him over and over when I’m concentrating on something. I have to be careful though because he suffered a left eye injury in a horrible accident. My dog tried to grab him when I was marking his eye on.

Why did I name him Tim you ask? (You probably didn’t but I’m going to tell you anyway.) I know a guy named Tim and his last name is Spaulding. The Spaulding company makes volleyballs just like ….



I didn’t want to rip Castaway off so hence the name Tim. I know he doesn’t quite measure up to a volleyball but I want him to dream big.  Besides, have you ever tried to squeeze a volleyball over and over?  Talk about your Carpel Tunnel.

Do children even need night lights anymore?

Do children even need night lights anymore?


Do little children even need night lights these days? I was lying in bed the other night and shut the TV off to go to sleep when I noticed this glow all around me. It hit me then. My house is never completely in the dark anymore. When I was a little kid I remember when turning out the light to go to sleep meant total darkness. Darkness unless you had a night light, which of course I didn’t. Oh OK, I had one for a short period of time, but it was Speed Racer in his Mach-5 racecar so it was cool. Yea, so cool. Now, however, I could see by the glow of all the electronic devices in my house emitting their green, red, and yellow hues.

Just in my bedroom alone I counted five different sources for the soft glow. There were a couple of cell phones, a clock, a power strip, and a DVR in standby mode. When I looked out into the hall I could see even more light shows. Our security panel, clock on the stove, and temperature display on my kegarator were all adding to the increasing luminosity. So that brings me back to my original question. Do little children even need night lights? There certainly wasn’t enough light to read or do basket weaving by, but enough so it would be comforting and would surely ward off the monsters in the closet and under the bed. I certainly know I was particularly comforted seeing the glow from my kegerator, ensuring me that my beer was being chilled at a crisp 36 degrees Fahrenheit.  I know kids these days don’t wear watches anymore. They just look at their phones for the time. Guess they could rely on them for night lights too. Can you even buy night lights anymore? Even if you can I bet the NLI (Night Light Industry) has taken a big hit. Another casualty of the 21st century. Pretty soon we’ll see them in a museum next to the rotary land line phone, dot matrix printer, and the Epilady. Oh, Epilady, that reminds me of a whole different story. Another time though.