So this is what it’s come to, huh? This is my life. I’m a thirty year-old woman and I am talking about vajazzling.
My life wasn’t always like this you know. I’m a scholar.
I speak three languages and that’s not even including Latin! I know STUFF.
Like you know whose wang is on the cover of the (uh) seminal Rolling Stones album “Sticky Fingers”with cover art done by Andy Warhol? I DO.
Can you identify all the maple trees found in North America by binomial nomenclature? I CAN.
I know all SORTS of stuff, but NO. I’m here writing about VAJAZZLING because APPARENTLY whatshername, with the orphans and the boobs, got her squirrel all sparkled up and thinks you should do the same.
Ladies. Seriously. Why do I even have to SAY super-gluing rhinestones on your shaven haven is a bad idea?
First of all, some things just don’t need decorating. Like you know how your grandma crocheted toilet paper cozies so instead of having the INDIGNITY of an unadorned roll of Charmin, you had something like this:
HOW? How is that an improvement? Even being a flower of the South, which means I take the exceedingly broad view of hoop skirts and bonnets, this is just infinitely INFINITELY worse!
SECONDLY, unless you’ve got laser hair removal or are on a merciless wax schedule, you’re going to get some follicular activity happening down there. I personally don’t care how you attend to your lady garden, but that cute little crystal Playboy Bunny is going to turn into “Easter egg hunt at Oilcan Harry’s” in about five to seven days and while a LITERAL Easter egg hunt at Oilcan Harry’s sounds like more fun than a wagon of puppies, a metaphorical one does not.
Also, glue does NOT last forever.
You think it might but I have eyelash extensions and I know the adhesive they use for that. That’s some hard core medical-grade stickum and even then, something occasionally gets loose. A particularly hot shower and the next thing you know it would be like the The Last Days of Disco all up in your lady lounge.
It’d be bad enough on your own but what if it your stray sparklies was discovered by a visitor to the area? And those things have edges! Do you REALLY want to be in the emergency room explaining to the admitting nurse that your gentleman’s personal gentleman is all scratched up because of a rogue crotch-crystal? Really? Because if you think you won’t be the talk of the emergency room you have another think coming.
And what if you got pregnant? It’s all fun and games and then nine months later instead of having a normal delivery which is pretty gross anyway, your kid, the fruit of your highly sparkling loins, makes his arrival into this world in a shower of cooch-confetti like RIP FREAKIN’ TAYLOR.
Is that what you want America? Is it?