It was an average Tuesday evening, a tid bit nipply, and one Tazer Warrior Princess decided it would probably be good to scrub up before going to bed. I stripped and set the shower to just under NUCLEAR WARHEAD LAVA GEYSER, and got ready to have what I thought would be a most excellent hot shower and scrubdown.
Oh, how wrong I was.
After vainly pampering my long, luscious locks with a delicious smelling rosemary mint shampoo and conditioner, I turned to doctoring my skin. See, I have the driest skin known to man, and it takes a feat of unprecedented glory to turn my flaky reptilian exoskeleton into something remotely resembling a soft, touchable human dermis.
I load my bath pouf up with creamy stuff and go to town tackling the half pound of flaky skin waiting to come off of my arms elbows and legs. Scrubbing away and singing along to Pandora at the top of my screechy, “cat being stepped on” lungs, I was blissfuly unaware of my own impending doom.
And then… it felt like a little baby piranha had latched onto some of my vulnerable bits and attempted to take off a nice tasty chunk of boob! Writhing in slippery, perfumed agony, I go to pull the bath pouf away from my body, only to realize that the bath pouf was the source of the shark-like vicegrip that had enveloped my left side. With a screech that would make a banshee blush, I dropped the pouf like it was on fire… but it hung from my nipple like a big blue booger, taunting me and tugging on my nipple even harder. It felt like I’d intentionally put the thing in a vicegrip and twisted it shut.
At this point, I was wet, soapy, buttass naked and running out of ideas of how to get the thing off of my damn boob. Twisting, turning it, pulling, pushing… nothing worked! Leaping out of the shower, I went streaking down the hallway (hoo buddy I hope my neighbors weren’t home) in search of a pair of scissors, to cut the non-compliant device of torture off of my poor nipple before it tore it in half!
As I stood in my kitchen, dripping soap, conditioner, and minty smelling water on the floor in a huge puddle, I realized one key life lesson, something that you only really learn once in a lifetime, and that’s if you’re lucky…
Don’t use bath poufs if you have pierced nipples. It will only lead to agony and embarrassment.
OMG I love you so much! So do you think they should add a warning label to the bath poofs? WARNING: Bath Poofs should not be used on areas of the body that are pierced as they may turn quickly into torture devices.
Al Qaeda should really look into them.
A guy I used to work with had the best story involving pierced nipples. At a wedding for one of the many people in the horde of his family his favorite aunt was one of the bridesmaids. Now his mother who was running the wedding noticed that something was off about top of said aunts dress. After spending a few minutes “adjusting” the top she said to her sister “There is something definitely wrong with this dress. It just doesn’t look right, it looks like you have 6 nipples.”
What his mother didn’t know and his aunt didn’t want to say was that the top of the dress was caught on her bar-bell nipple piercings (both boobs) and the fact that his mother was moving the top around was:
A) causing pain
B) the aunt was overwhelming the dress with her boobs
C) not going to fixed with manhandling.
After a few minutes his aunt busted out laughing and finally explained that she had nipple piercings and there was no way the dress was getting fixed.
HAHAHAHA oh that would be mortifying! I’m pretty sure my mom would faint if she knew I had these haha
I apologize Tazerness but I’m sitting here laughing my ass off at the mental images this post produced. I mean the silent big gasping breaths type laughter. Bath poufs are evil little bastards that lull you into a false sense of security with their scrubby goodness just waiting for you to relax your guard!
Never again. I heaved it into the trash as soon as I cut it off of my boob.
I was really wondering how in the fuck it was stuck to your nipple.. and then it all made sense… lol
Owwwwww!