Wax my what?!

Okay. Sally Hansen kicked my ass. Like a lot. I decided in my efforts to save my family money I was going to wax my own lady part. So, I trooped into Wal Mart and found what seemed to be the perfect waxing kit! No warming up wax. No slathering my body with nastiness. Just nifty little strips that you warm up between your hands and rub on whatever hair it is that you want torn from your body and pull. Seemed easy enough. I let the product sit on the counter for a few days while I thought of a great, pain free game plan. Fantastic pain-free game plan #1: ask Channing Tatum to come over and drink a bottle of tequila with me the HE can do the waxing....and stuff. Fantastic pain-free game plan #2: ask my husband to help, again after a bottle of tequila) but I am not sure he would EVER view my lady parts the same afterwards. Fantastic pain-free game plan #3: It's going to hurt like hell and there is NOT a single thing I can do to change that so I may as well grip it and rip it. So. Since Channing didn't answer and I couldn't bring myself to ask my husband, I went with number 3. I trooped upstairs determined to get it done. OMG. Never again will I challenge Sally Hansen to a beauty contest. She won. I will be the one at the pool with the 70's afro on my lady parts. Who knows...maybe I will buy a pretty pick for it.