Filed under: Misc. Humor, Posts | Tags: adulthood, Beauty, chest hair, hair removal, haircuts, health, humor, manscaping, mens health, razors, sex, subourbonmom, tweezers, wax
The other day a group of us were discussing a fashion trend that some of us find…interesting: Manscaping. I don’t just mean a little mowing the yard after a shower–I’m talking serious, no-hair-anywhere Manscaping that leaves most actors in the 35-and-under category weirdly hairless—like pre-pubescent boys.
Now, I’m all for not seeing Sasquatch peeking out from under the collar, just as I imagine no one wants to see a fig leaf bikini on the beach with palm fronds growing out of it. But one guy in the conversation (which was started and dominated by women, so kudos to the guys there for holding their own) finally asked, “So if a man is hirsute and he’s trying to do this, exactly where does the carpet stop and the tile begin?”
Excellent question. I went to that trustworthy source, Google, since asking my friends was doing nothing but causing hysterical laughter as we talked about waxing and trimming horror stories and mistakes.
There a lot of how-to sites, most concerning the techniques of using razors and wax and laser removal. But here are a few tips from Esquire magazine (and a couple of other sites) that I agree with:
- For the chest that does not see a lot of gym time, a layer of hair can be a blessing. But if you do choose to show it off, make sure your chest hair is in proportion to your arm and leg hair. You can trim them all, but the key word here is TRIM. The character Schmidt on the television show New Girl is the perfect example of things not matching up. The guy has a crazy-thick head of hair and 5-o’clock shadow, but no hair anywhere else that network television will show. For the chest, waxing or using clippers is recommended to reduce ingrown hairs and shave-rash.
- Back hair—it’s gotta go; and the neck too. No matter how much you rock your partner’s world, no one needs that extra something there to hold onto. As for the neck, any decent hair stylist should be taking care of it anyway.

- The buttocks—back to the carpet/tile question: “No one wants hair shorts,” says Esquire. Maybe trimming is the compromise?
- Nose and ear hair—really? Is that still even a question? And no, there isn’t an age limit on when that should stop being an issue. I view nose, neck and ear hair as the weed whacker areas. Get the proper tools and it’ll go quickly, while making everything else look better.

- The undercarriage: Word on the street is that trimming up the undercarriage can make the muffler look bigger; however, you can’t run around in your tighty-whities anymore afterward. Hair on any part of the body acts as a moisture wicking device, as well as a friction reducer. Tight underwear can cause rashes, itching and chafing.

- Trimming your chest/body hair into cute shapes is a no-no (see below).

- The Boyzilian—I’m not touching that with a 10-foot pole (that’s probably trimmed to look like 12). A man getting that done–that’s an image I DO NOT want in my head. If it’s something you want to try—good luck to you. Your partner should spring for the Advil and the bag of frozen peas.
Now that summer is over, waxing season has begun. Start now, and it will be less painful and less frequent by next summer. Christmas is coming up (according to most stores you’d think its next week. It’s only October, people! Can’t we get through Halloween first?), so that might be a good time to ask for that trimmer. Whatever you choose to do, you might want to make sure it’s not permanent. Just look at all those women out there with eyebrows like a pencil line; that style’s out now, and thicker brows are in. They don’t make chest hair pencils—yet—just sayin’.
(And after looking for all of these pictures, there are now about a dozen images I can’t ever un-see…you’re welcome.)
Filed under: Food/Drink, Middle Age, Misc. Humor | Tags: adulthood, Ben & Jerry's, capitalism, Food, free markets, health, humor, ice cream, Marriage, nutrition, shopping, subourbonmom
I’ve got a serious issue with Ben & Jerry’s. Twenty-five years ago, Hubby and I spent a lot of our college dating time riding around in the shuttle he drove for extra money, eating Ben & Jerry’s Coffee Heath Bar Crunch. This year, on our 20th anniversary, Hubby went out for some Coffee Heath Bar Crunch, and came home with…Ben & Jerry’s Coffee Toffee Crunch.
It was NASTY.
We Googled why they changed, and apparently they were feeling guilty about the state of America’s health, and of developing country’s economies, so they changed to a healthy version from a free trade country.
Um, news flash, Ben & Jerry’s: if I’m eating Coffee Heath Bar Crunch, chances are I’m not too worried about my health. And just for you capitalists out there, Ben & Jerry are missing a major point: if it tastes nasty (and it does), people won’t buy it. Then you’re not helping anybody.
Hubby sent a nasty-gram to B&J, and they kindly sent us some coupons. But what we really want is our flavor back–so please, Ben & Jerry, stop researching ways to make “Fish Food” flavor out of salmon for those good omega-3s, and bring my Coffee Heath Bar Crunch back.
Filed under: Middle Age, Misc. Humor, Posts | Tags: adulthood, ATMs, breasts, business, entrepreneurs, health, humor, libraries, mammograms, menopause, Middle-Age, mom, south, southern, subourbonmom, women, women's health
I was reminded the other day that I am way late on getting my mammogram done—y’all, getting older sucks. Seriously, there’s got to be a more comfortable way to look at our mammory masterpieces. Thanks to Obamacare (which I think has done great things for people with pre-existing illness, by the way), I’ve been counting my pennies and choosing carefully which medical events are most important. In my field research, I’ve found more inexpensive ways to get a mammogram done.
The best way is to drive to your local library and use the mechanized drop box that looks like an ATM. Our county’s libraries recently got new ones—here’s how they work. When you drive up, the shelf is exactly at the wrong height, no matter what kind of car you’re in.
If you’re in an SUV, you have to hang your body half way out the window because you have to be so far away to accommodate the return book conveyor belt. Then you smush your chest on your window as you reach for the buttons to operate the damned thing. If you’re in a sedan or God forbid, a hybrid, you have to climb like a monkey up to the right height, squishing your chest on the drop box ledge to get your books up there.
Side note: Someone please tell me—why is it an option to get a receipt at the library? Are there people who don’t want a receipt in case there is secret information that someone might use against them to rack up a bunch of late charges? Just print the thing off without making me hang my torso out of the car like a crash-test dummy to press another button.
Another good place to do this is at your local ATM. Same principal applies, but the reverse is true for cars—ATMs seem to be made for SUVs. I was driving Hubby’s sedan (excuse me, he would emphasize it’s a SPORT sedan, even though it has 4 doors), and realized the car mirrors are at exactly the wrong height–they would smack into the front edge of the ATM if I got any closer. I had to back up and pull in again (much to my mortification) so I wouldn’t hit the machine. Then, I had to stretch up to reach the buttons and grab my stuff, once again smushing my chest exactly like they do in a mammogram.
If mammogram folks were smart, they would partner with library drop offs and ATMs to do a combo-service, taking a picture as you went about your business. A week after you visited the ATM or library drop-off, you would get a notice in the mail informing you if your mammogram was normal or not–receipt optional.
Filed under: Misc. Humor, Parenting | Tags: children, colds, family, flu, germ, health, humor, kids, mom, parenting, parents, subourbonmom
In honor of cold and flu season, and the wonderful children with green noses and slimy sleeves that learn to share their germs before they learn to share anything else, ‘m putting aside my box of tissues and NyQuil to impart this sage advice:
Cover Your Katchoo!
I have a cold.
I’ve got a runny nose, achy toes,
And a fever, so I’m told.
I know how I got it, too.
Someone didn’t cover their Katchoo.
I remember sitting next to Tommy
(he’s the kid who always wants his Mommy).
When all the sudden, he took a deep breath—
Ahh—ahhh-ahhh-…..Katchoo!
And do you know what?
My arm was covered in goo!
My teacher made me wash it all off.
But not before Annie started to sneeze and cough.
I ran to the sink and scraped and scrubbed.
I made patterns of bubbles while I rubbed.
I thought maybe I’d gotten off germ-free.
But yesterday I started to –achoo!—sneeze.
My nose filled up and my head started to hurt.
My forehead got hot, but my cough was the worst.
It started up here, in my chest, and it wasn’t so bad.
But the next day it came up from my toes,
So I called for my dad.
“Dad!” I said, “How did I get so sick?
I did what the teacher said, but I still feel like ick.”
Dad looked at me and scratched his head.
He sat next to me on the bed and said,
“I feel bad for you, I really do.
It looks like someone didn’t cover their Katchoo!”
Copyright 2013 Subourbonmom




