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In This Issue

• Celebrate Our Appendix!
• Alternative Motherhood
• Gossip and Nudity: Interview with the Gossip
• Letters to the Feditors
• The Colombia Spectador
• Yowie! How the Brazilians do bikini wax
• Making Waves
• Am I Naked or Nude?
• Marauding Interviewer: Dwarves Fascinated by Own Pants
• Big Nudity Exam
• Point – Counterpoint
• ‘Is It Cold In Here?’
• News Briefs
• News Quiz: Do you know about the important events going on in your world?
• Eight Situations In Which I Am Naked
• Get Your Hands Off Me You Damn, Dirty Apes
• Naked Haikus
• Naked Horoscopes
• This is Not a Naked Santa
• THEY Watch
• The Staff of 16.8

PARENTAL ADVISORY: The following personal narrative contains nudity, adult content', and adult language. Sound like a porno you and your friends watched Saturday night? Let me tell you, it might as well have been; the only thing missing was the video camera.

Ahh, the mysterious Brazilian Bikini Wax. Countless questions surround this exotic mode of vanity (or masochism, depending on how you look at it). What is a Brazilian Bikini Wax, exactly? Well, it is when you go to a salon, get hot wax smeared all over your nether-regions, and then get pretty much all of your pubic hair ripped out. But, more importantly, why the hell would anyone put themselves through such a horribly painful experience? I'll get to that one later.

As I entered the Aya Salon in Los Angeles, the people at the front desk told me to make myself comfortable on their lovely Pottery Barn couch and' wait for Joey, who would "take care of me." Joey, a.k.a. "Just Joey", was nothing short of an acid trip gone awry. He strutted out in his raccoon coat, jet black hair with bleach blonde streaks, a bedazzled T-shirt from a mid-80s Duran Duran concert, and kick-ass designer aviator glasses. I timidly followed him back to his room, which was decorated with scented perfumes, incense, and candles. I thought to myself, "Could this be so bad? It seems relaxing in here." I knew how oh-so-wrong I was when I heard Just Joey command, "Drop your pants." So, I did what he said, closed my eyes, and held my breath.

I never thought I would trust a man to pour hot wax on my inner thigh, pelvic area, and labia. Yes folks, even my labia. To tell you the honest truth, it didn't hurt so badly until, well, that labia part. Whoa Nelly. Try plucking one of those hairs down there, and then multiply that pain by 10,000,000. Needless to say, a profuse stream of expletives flowed from my mouth. Of course, this didn't stop Just Joey from "doing his thing." He just looked at me and said, "yeah, that one was an ouchy, wasn't it?"

After a half-hour of excruciating pain, Joey went to go melt some more wax in the microwave. Once I'd remembered to start breathing again and the pain had begun to subside from my crotch, I heard Joey say "Honey, get on all fours and put your head on the pillow. If you didn't know it already, this is doggy style!" Hello! If I thought I was trusting before, this took Joey and I to a whole new level. All I can say is that if I should happen to be in an accident that results in paramedics having to look at my asshole, I'm in good, clean and smooth shape. By the time I stood up, my shirt was drenched in sweat and my newly hairless ass was sticking to the paper on the table. Joey just looked at me and practically screamed, "You're a woman now!!!"

So this brings me back to my initial question: "Why the hell would any sane individual put themselves through this most definitely painful experience?" The truth of the matter is, only a crazy person would enjoy getting the hair ripped out of their cooch. But… even though it wasn't enjoyable, per se, I understand why people pay to have it done. For one thing, I did feel mighty sexy after the recovery period. And I love watching people's eyes bulge out of their head when I tell them that I got a Brazilian Bikini Wax. It's kind of like those shirts with the slits by the breasts— everyone knows exactly what is behind the slits, and just the idea starts to drive them wild. Also, as Joey said, "We are not cave people. That hair was initially there for protection. But now, that shit is just unsanitary and gross!" He also pointed out that certain men will go crazy down there like they're in a candy store, which is yet to be proven by yours truly. So, like many other beauty trends these days, this one seems to subscribe to the same motto: No pain, no gain. With all this said, would I go back for a second dose? Absolutely. Would I stop for a double round of martinis beforehand? You know it.