by redzinger
Very enticing tale!
Had me laughing as I visualized the whole story...
...and loved it!
Great use of double entendre in keeping with the spirit of the song.
I always wondered about her.
After singing it more times than enough [and not quite getting it, mostly] the penny has, at last, dropped.
Thank you for a good laugh.
HP
... I've heard many like it. Sung around SCA camp fired, by pirates, vikings and people too drunk to know what they want to be. Including one song that's has the lyrics.
"He was dirty and filthy and full of fleas, but he had his women in twos and threes...."
So I have a generally good idea. Lol.
Delightfully funny. Enjoyed the visual. When she was on the roof top I kept picturing Rapunzel ... for some odd reason.
And as a man that has enjoyed everything from "Shagged" carpet to waxed floors, this story was pure fun. Five * * * * * if for no other reason than you told a good story and made me laugh.
Critique: You never once mentioned her possibly braiding it up like a viking maiden. ~Grins~
Good story.
MST
Ah yes, the Chicago Farquar's provides many services, including shaving your beaver. Their personal service is impeccable, and their staff is always willing to take on a challenging job.
The head of their personal services department, Ralph Farquar, is so good, he's picked up a reputation on both sides of the Atlantic.
A great story. Good luck in the contest.
Lyrics... Just use Google. Or this link is to a reasonably ad-free site (you'll have to copy and paste): http://www.turoks.net/Bordello/MayorOfBayswater.php
That in and of itself was dumb. The rest was just silly.
Your writing glistens like.... well, you can probably guess. (This is a compliment.)
My ex had a beard. He used to trim it with one of those electrical trimmers. He also used to trim me with it. When we broke up, I missed this excellent piece of equipment, so went and bought one of my own.
Just before Christmas, I had a 21-year-old rugby lad staying at my place while he tried to get a pro contract. Being young and a rugby player meant that he regularly returned from nights out rather late and very, very drunk.
Which is why I was surprised, on the evening of his Christmas team social, to hear him return before 11pm.
He slowly pushed the door open, and sheepishly entered. I gasped in horror.
You know that teacher we all had in school, who, instead of accepting that he was losing his hair, would continue to grow what remained, 70s stylie? (Even attempt the odd combover?) So there would be a shiny dome, and longer hair on the sides?
That's how he looked. The top of his head had been shaved totally. Shiny-shiny. The sides were still intact. There was also a few cuts where they hadn't shaved straight, and sliced his scalp, and the odd bit of blood dribbling down.
He was gutted. Absolutely gutted and on the verge of tears. Kept asking me how soon it would grow back.
He was also fretting about working the next day, at midday. Now, it being a Sunday and he wasn't the earliest of risers, I suspected he would prefer to miss work rather than turn up resembling a younger version of my former Chemistry teacher. (Plus he owed me dosh, so I didn't want him to miss a shift.)
So I ordered him to sit and said I'd get my beard trimmer. Gave the blade a quick clean (it was a bit pungent, and he wasn't that drunk as to miss the smell of pussy). Ten amusing (for me as an amateur hairdresser) minutes later, if you squinted, he just looked like a skinhead who'd been stamped on during a rough game of rugby. Or a remarkably well-built cancer sufferer.
For the next month, I had to restrain giggles every time I saw him.
Unfortunately, I told my housemate. As she is quite the blabber, she got drunk one night and blurted it out, amid howls of laughter. He stormed furiously in and yelled at me.
My innocent response was, 'Well, why do you think a woman would have a beard trimmer?'
You said in the "being shaved isn't humiliating" thread that I'd love your story, and you were right. Please check out my stories as well, lots of them feature hairy heroines. ;)