Ngggnnnn... ouch!

Just booked a bikini wax. For some reason, I look forward to such painful and humiliating appointments with impish glee. Waxing, going to the dentist for a DZZZZT! drill 'n' fill, pap smears, blood tests, inoculations, you name it. They have my satanic inner child rubbing her pointy little hands together and squealing: "That's gonna HURT!"

She doesn't seem to have realised that is is me, her white-thighed, sore-toothed, unkempt, wrong-knicker-choosing, thin-veined host, who'll be suffering the indignities.

I think my satanic inner child is a bit thick.