Wax That A** – The Power of The Wax

Ladies and Gentlemen, I have to know – when was the last time you felt powerful? I’m not talking post-workout powerful. I’m not even talking Bill Gates billionaire powerful. No, my friends. I’m talking post-wax powerful.

At no point in my life (except like four days postpartum), have I felt more powerful than I do each time I leave the waxing salon. I talked about this in a previous episode, too. Like, literally, anyone who subjects themselves to a Brazilian wax is a powerful (and possibly sadistic) human being.

I mean, think about it. We don’t have to get waxed. We know it hurts, but we do it anyway. We put ourselves through the pain, and for what? The power.

Listen, I walk out of wax parlors on top of the world; feeling like I can conquer the world … or at least ride the biggest pony on the ranch. I feel like I can do the unthinkable because I, Dez Esper, just elected to have some rando with weird gloves and warm sticks yank my personal property from me as if to liberate the skin beneath it.

I feel even more powerful when I put my wax to use, though. Sex? HA – who is the hairless-iest of them all? I am. Working out? Yeah, nothing but pure, unabsorbed butt sweat soaking through my compression pants. Showering? Man, the exfoliation glove just slides right down.

It’s amazing, and it’s powerful. So, please, everyone, a round of applause for the wax.

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