Russian Roulette
Now I'm not one to endorse stereotypes, but Russian women? They love pussy.
Remember Tatou? They were all over each other. And men out there, you wouldn't know this, but every esthetician I've ever been to has been Russian for some reason. I don't know if waxing limbs is something momma teaches you out there but damn those women are skilled.
I go to the same woman to take care of my hoo ha. To get the 'ol bush trimmed. Men probably think that going to get the pubic hairs yanked from their root off your pussy is a nice little Saturday experience. Like we show up, there's 'essential oils' wafting in the air, you're walking around in a terry cloth robe, chattin' with the other ladies in the salon. All very nice, all very painless. Maybe like, when the wax gets poured, my Russian is all soothing tones and gives you a little freebie massage and poof! My bush just magically disappears. Maybe little kittens lick the wax remnants off. I dunno what you think goes on.
Well let me just tell ya. It bears no fucking resemblance to that scenario. And the waxing? It hurts like fuck. The things we do for you.
And oh my Russian. My Russian. While she is good, damn that girl is moody. I never know which Svetlana I'm gonna get. And this is an important relationship,which, like the pussy, needs to be maintained. You're in the doggy position for half your conversation for fucks sake. You are at her total mercy.
Last time I was in she was borderline abusive to me.
"You no have boyfriend now no? Hair is too long. How come you let it get so long? What is wrong with you? You not like the sex? You Lesbninan? RRRRRRRIP. Legs in air!!!! RRRRRIP."
So I figure the last thing I need on a Saturday is this shit, so I try and put an end to the relationship and sign myself up for laser hair removal. And I show up for my first session, and I'm all psyched 'cause there's no rrrrrip sounds going through my head. And I get called into the 'therapy room' and goddamn, the 'hair removal technician' is Russian. And fuck is she angry. And you just have to put up with it. At their total mercy.
You know when you're at a restaurant or some other service industry you wouldn't pu up with shit from the waiter. Or your hairdresser. The waxer? Can't say nothing. And what woman would? Let's be honest, bitch is pointing a laser at my fucking pussy!
Legs up? Yes 'mam.
Now I'm not one to endorse stereotypes, but Russian women? They love pussy.
Remember Tatou? They were all over each other. And men out there, you wouldn't know this, but every esthetician I've ever been to has been Russian for some reason. I don't know if waxing limbs is something momma teaches you out there but damn those women are skilled.
I go to the same woman to take care of my hoo ha. To get the 'ol bush trimmed. Men probably think that going to get the pubic hairs yanked from their root off your pussy is a nice little Saturday experience. Like we show up, there's 'essential oils' wafting in the air, you're walking around in a terry cloth robe, chattin' with the other ladies in the salon. All very nice, all very painless. Maybe like, when the wax gets poured, my Russian is all soothing tones and gives you a little freebie massage and poof! My bush just magically disappears. Maybe little kittens lick the wax remnants off. I dunno what you think goes on.
Well let me just tell ya. It bears no fucking resemblance to that scenario. And the waxing? It hurts like fuck. The things we do for you.
And oh my Russian. My Russian. While she is good, damn that girl is moody. I never know which Svetlana I'm gonna get. And this is an important relationship,which, like the pussy, needs to be maintained. You're in the doggy position for half your conversation for fucks sake. You are at her total mercy.
Last time I was in she was borderline abusive to me.
"You no have boyfriend now no? Hair is too long. How come you let it get so long? What is wrong with you? You not like the sex? You Lesbninan? RRRRRRRIP. Legs in air!!!! RRRRRIP."
So I figure the last thing I need on a Saturday is this shit, so I try and put an end to the relationship and sign myself up for laser hair removal. And I show up for my first session, and I'm all psyched 'cause there's no rrrrrip sounds going through my head. And I get called into the 'therapy room' and goddamn, the 'hair removal technician' is Russian. And fuck is she angry. And you just have to put up with it. At their total mercy.
You know when you're at a restaurant or some other service industry you wouldn't pu up with shit from the waiter. Or your hairdresser. The waxer? Can't say nothing. And what woman would? Let's be honest, bitch is pointing a laser at my fucking pussy!
Legs up? Yes 'mam.
posted by KarenFantana at 6:26 AM
1 Comments:
I feel your pain. Those women are scary. And what exactly is the required etiquette on knickers? Some look at you in disgust if you leave them on, others think you're a perv if they turn around to see you giving them an eyeful of unmanicured bush. And how do they really think it's possible to give you a brazilian while wearing your pants? What's a girl to do huh?
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