#celebrityflaps

Um, Original Source… can we talk?

I’d like to take you back to around 6.45am this morning, when I stepped into my bath, and found that my usual, rather innocuous bottle of shower gel (Waitrose essentials, Rose) had run out. A tad irritating, but fortuitously, I had a solution close to hand. A brand new, unopened bottle of your very own Mint and Tea Tree Shower Gel. My bodily cleanliness was assured once more. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I took the Mint and Tea Tree Shower Gel and began to work it into a lather. I applied it to first one leg, then the other, and shaved them diligently. (Yes, feel free to be impressed at my commitment to body defoliation at 6.45am on a Wednesday morning. I was too.) So far, so good.

I washed my arms and shaved underneath them. I washed my neck, breasts, stomach and back. Thus far, it had been a positively first class bathing experience.

And then.

AND THEN.

Oh. Dear. God.

MY VAGINA WAS ABLAZE.

For a moment, I wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. Had I repeated the never to be forgotten error when I managed to apply hair removal cream which was strictly not for front bottoms to my front bottom? Had a stray spark inadvertently set light to my pubic thatch?

BECAUSE IT FUCKING FELT LIKE IT.

Yes, Original Source, your innocuous looking green bottle of so called shower gel, it turns out, is an absolute fucking liability. MY FLAPS WERE ON FUCKING FIRE. I had a quick look at the ingredients list to see if it contained gasoline. It did not. There was a warning though. ‘KEEP AWAY FROM EYES.’ Keep away from eyes? KEEP AWAY FROM EYES? Frankly, my eyes were the least of my problems right now.

I frantically scrubbed my flaps, which by now felt as though they were being ceremoniously scrubbed by ants wearing ice skates laced with chilli sauce. ‘7,929 tingling leaves’ claimed the front of the bottle. Tingling? TINGLING? This wasn’t tingling my minge. It was starting a fucking bush fire down there. (Pun entirely intended. You can thank me later.)

Some twelve hours later, my front bottom has finally calmed down, though may well be suffering from as yet unconfirmed PTSD. My eyes have eventually stopped watering. And so, in the interests of public safety, I thought I would pen you this missive.

May I suggest a rebranding of the front of your bottles of Mint and Tea Tree Shower Gel? Something along the lines of the following:

‘7,927 tingling leaves which will accost your genitalia until it screams for mercy.’

If nothing else, it will certainly stand out on the shelf.

Anyways, thanks for brightening up my morning. And my front bottom, which has never been so lively.

Kisses, IKINTST xxx

2 thoughts on “#celebrityflaps

  1. While not an owner of any flaps – celebrity or otherwise – may I also suggest that the recent book title, Fire & Fury, may also be used to describe a shower incident. Much as it’s important for a gentleman to keep his rear fresh, and not smelling like eight polyester glad pervs fresh from an eight day sweatathon grumble in a clingfilm sleeping bag, I’m unsure that the scorched arse, sorry, earth, policy from Original Bastards is entirely necessary.

    Like

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