Wax on, wax AHAHAHAOWWWFF

Word of advice:

If one has spent the afternoon being "seen to" by a distracted Beautician who loves to regale one with tales of her latest male companions and gets all caught up in the sound of her own voice, be sure to remember that one is likely going to come away with barely a snifter of hair left if one has booked a respectable XX bikini wax.

Furthermore, if one has felt skin that was previously tucked discreetly inside one's underpants suddenly burst outside at the ripping away of the hot wax, it should be presumed that the Beautician hasn't applied the soothing after-cream to that region very closely... because that's getting into a risqué sort of Lohan/Hilton type area. This will mean that one's "Nethers" are going to still have the odd bit of wax attached to skin. Raw, traumatised skin.

So if one leaves it to the last moment before racing to the bathroom to relieve oneself, be wary of pulling the underpants slowwwwwwwly down because, guaranteed, those pants are now stuck to the leftover wax, which is attached to the traumatised skin. It goes without saying, therefore, that one needs to execute great care. Otherwise, one's visiting parents-in-law are more than likely to hear one's whinnies of pain followed by a thinly disguised expletive.

And here endeth the lesson, Daniel-san.