From kink to comfort

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(Editor's note: Paolo wrote this VERY carefully due to the sensitive subject matter. He even proofread it once.)

Today I read an article in the always-hilarious Onion titled, "Area Girlfriend, Boyfriend Achieve Perfect Mother-Son Relationship." The fictional article reports on how a once-romantic relationship has evolved into a platonic, mother-son relationship in which the girlfriend "sublimated his libido under the weight of his projected need for a maternal protector."

I had a couple good laughs at this article because some of it is so, so true. The fictional girlfriend talks about having to remind her boyfriend about what to wear, his appointments and brushing his teeth. It's funny how guys allow for this to happen.

I say "allow" because a lot of guys get along just fine without "caregivers" but gladly let their girlfriends take on the responsibility of everything related to hygiene, organization and overall thinking when said girlfriends determine that the guys need help. Most, myself included, are thankful for this strange, naturally occurring dynamic.

"When we first met, I knew there was something special about Pete—he was like a big teddy bear you just wanted to tuck into bed," says the girlfriend in the article. "That's not to say we don't still have our problems. Sometimes he throws a tantrum when he doesn't want to do the dishes, and I have to discipline him. But when he falls asleep with his head in my lap, it's all worth it."

I have to admit, that is one comfortable way to fall asleep.

Wax on, hair off

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Gentleman, I'm here to tell you everything's going to be OK. You can wax without shame.

Perhaps you've got some stray hairs that take more than tweezers. Or maybe you've been blessed with an Austin Powers-like chest rug that you don't want to get in the way of your shagging.

I'm telling you right now that wax is the way to go.

I got my first wax last summer at a nice place called Wax Bar in Ballard to remove some unwanted hair on my back. It was a spa-like process that included scented oils, bottled water and a massage table. This all came at a price (+$50), but I was most shocked by the price of pain.

That wax hurt like a bitch. I don't know how women do this between their legs on such a regular basis. Kudos, ladies.

Still, it got the job done, and I felt more confident and more comfortable. I went back a couple more times throughout the summer and stopped when the weather turned cold and I had fewer opportunities to show the world my glorious physique (See previous Palm Desert video).

Enter Amanda and her willingness to administer pain. I like to think that we bond when I tear up and she responds with belly laughs. We found an inexpensive, effective sugaring hair removal wax at The Body Shop that gets the job done. I'd recommend this to any guy who wants to wax several times for under $25.

For as long as I can remember, Sergio's had a small, circular patch of hair in the middle of his back. He was probably born with it. He's headed to Greece in a couple weeks and we thought we'd trial the wax on him ahead of the trip. Here's how that turned out.

Guys, don't be intimidated by the pain. While it's almost as bad as getting a tattoo, waxing is fast and satisfying in the end. That's what she said.

Swine Flu is the other white death, or How Wesley Narrowly Escaped Mexican Jail

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Mexico is getting knocked around like a pinata with all of these Swine Flu stories, huh?

I received mails from HR this week first announcing that any business travel to Mexico is prohibited and then advising any employees coming back from Mexico to stay home for three days before returning to work. Dang!
Considering the relatively low death toll, I feel like this Swine Flu is about as contrived a media circus as is Obama's "First Hundred Days."
People, at least entertain my tastes and call it Bacon Flu.
I'm reminded of my last encounter with pigs and Mexico...

Once upon a time, Wesley, Scott and I were in Cabo San Lucas and decided to go on a booze cruise (This picture was actually taken on said cruise). We were younger, stupider and much more entertaining back then. Little did we know the trouble we would get into just an hour later.
We drank ourselves silly and came off the boat needing to find a restroom -- immediately. We didn't see any close toilets but found what we thought was a sheltered back alley in the harbor to relieve ourselves. This was a muy bad mistake.
Wesley was the first up to bat, and no more quickly did he unleash his pequeno-Wesley and assume the tripod position did the police approach and accuse him of public urination, which was technically a crime in progress.
The timing was too perfect, too immediate. We were set up. This was a stake out.
Those pigs knew that tourists like us, too classy to piss overboard but too desperate to wait for a real restroom, would break the seal -- and the law.
We begged and pleaded with the police not to make pico de gallo out of Wesley at the cruel Mexican jail, as depicted in several Antonio Banderas movies. Wesley was practically fluent in Spanish and Scott and I tried our best, but our speech was slurred. The police probably understood our pleas and excuses but played dumb. They threatened to take Wesley away, and he was already feeling badly for having to stop himself mid-stream and without a good shake.
Fortunately, we were joined by some Marines on the cruise and one of them happened to speak excellent Spanish, which the police could not ignore. He was easily as drunk as we were but could hold his liquor. After all, these were American-born, trained Marines. One of them had chugged a half-fifth of Jose Cuervo with the boat captain (who then proceeded to guide us back to shore) and only threw up overboard twice.
Our Marine friend proceeded to convince the police that Wesley was trying to take picture, or a lie to that ridiculous effect, and the police were probably so entertained by our stress by that time that they let us off the hook.
To celebrate, we proceeded out to the bars to continue the booze cruise festivities where bathrooms were dirty and convenient.
Hopefully we can keep in mind this corrupt, tourist-slumming, binge-encouraging Mexico that we all know and love -- and not let that image be tainted by the overhyped, unfortunate Swine Flu.