Philips Satinelle Epilator Review – For Fun


What I should have named this post is “Philips Epilator – Shitty Review” but lets be honest, you wouldn’t bother reading it! So consider yourselves outsmarted! HA!

Well, now that your here, perhaps I should fill your head with complete utter garbage. About an Epilator! YAY! *Jazz hands* Now before you want to kill yourself for even reading this far, I assure you it can only get worse from here. So bare with me. Please? *Sob*

If some of you gave a shit to read the post previous to this, you would have read that I epilated my boyfriend’s hairy ass with my brand new epilator. Yes I’m fucking crazy. Does that answer your question? It was a bet that I was SURE I was going to win. Instead, a valuable life lesson was learned yesterday.

Anyway’s, I also mentioned what an epilator was. A handheld torturous device used to make women wish they were more like naked mole rats. I’m being serious. Call me a pussy, but that shit fucking hurts! I wasn’t kidding when I said it basically is a electric pair of tweezers, moving at light speed ripping out a million hairs at a time!

If waxing wasn’t bad enough, some genius created this brutal man made contraption to remove body hair. I’m going to assume it was a male. Not that I’ve done my research on who created this thing. But 99.8% of the time, it’s of the penis gender making women want to kill themselves one invention at a time.

Now, I have a high pain tolerance. Really, I’m not just trying to make myself look big. But that shit fucking SMARTS!

Like, it’s been 3 days since I used it and my legs are STILL on FIRE! Given, this was my first time ever using this vile machine so who knows. It might be less painful the next time I decide to consciously, rip the hair out of my legs in the most brutal way ever! I’m pretty sure pouring gasoline on my legs and setting them on fire, would hurt a whole lot LESS and be just as efficient then that shit!

Otherwise. I love the machine. Best 56 dollars I’ve spent in a long time to remove my beastly thick body hair! If you are a masochist and want a really effective method of hair removal, I highly recommend this lean mean killing hair removal machine! It rips the FUCK out of your legs giving them that bumpy after feel and appearance. Almost like a chicken.

Enjoy your chicken legs! Sexy!


Attention: This is not a resourceful nor professional review. Please don’t flip shit on me. Thanks

Chicken- Balls!

50 Bucks You Say?

“I bet you 50 bucks that you couldn’t last a second!”…. 50 bucks later. *Cries* Before your all like “What the fuck?” I’ll explain the stupid life decision I made. I bet my hairy, Portuguese boyfriend, that he wouldn’t last getting his ass cheek epilated. THE FUCKER DID IT! He actually did it!! I think the picture is pretty self explanatory of where I used the epilator. X marks the spot. Also, incase you don’t know what an epilator is, it’s a torturous device made for women to simultaneously rip out hair on their legs. Like 50 hairs at a time! Imagine a pair or tweezers ripping out hair really really fast! Fucking OUCH right? Ah, women. The shit we do to ourselves.

Oh! I also got his parents and his 8 year old brother to watch. Just because me being the giant cunt that I am, thought he would scream and cry like a little BITCH! Nope. Not a peep. I’m such a sadist. *Evil grin* But I was shit out of luck, lost 50 bucks, and now I’m broke, again. *Sigh*

So besides me having my boyfriends ass cheek hair in my brand new epilator, I’m 50 bucks in the shitter. Fuck.

I just wanted to share my new valuable life lesson on bets. No matter now painful and torturous the device is. When there’s money on the table. DON’T DO IT. That is all.

Songs That Make Me Happy In The Pants – Part 1

I have to be honest with you here. I am not the BIGGEST fan of Eminem. Sure he is the greatest white rapper of all time, (My opinion only, no need to cut my dick off) but I’ve never really been into Rap music anyway. But! But but but but BUTT!! There is a BIG exception when it comes to his latest song “Berserk.” Mainly because I am such a 80′s and 90′s music whore, you can clearly here the song “The Stroke” from Billy Squier! Sex Monkey!

Do you have those songs that, no matter what mood you are in, they can turn you absolutely fucking crazy! In a positive way of course! Like, just flat out nuts! Head banging, fist pumping, screaming the lyrics out like you don’t give a FUCK! There’s a baby right beside you. Fuck the baby! You scream and shout profanity at the top of your lungs anyways! THAT! Ladies and gents, is what this song DOES to me!

This is not a song you abuse and put on repeat to use the shit out of it like a street walker! You cherish that shit! That’s what you do!

This song makes me so CRAZY that when I come into my room, I kick the computer chair! I fucking kick that shit OUT of the way so I have room to go APE shit! I start playing air guitar and whipping my hair around!


I blast the music until my parents freak the fuck out at me! I tell them to SHUT UP! Then they threaten to disconnect my whole room from the fuse box. Bitches. But I freaking LOVE this song! It gets the juices flowing! Great song to smash stuff to by the way!

Confessions Part 1


Have you ever had a fear of something so much that it was crippling? Like, just the thought of it would send you into fits of crying, panic attacks, extreme heart palpitations, and a horrible case of the shits or vomiting? If your really unlucky sometimes both, AT THE SAME TIME! Well if you don’t have one, consider yourself lucky!

Mine happens to be public speaking. Now before your all like “HA HA PUSSY,” just shut up and let me try and explain. Throughout my whole life, annoying cry baby Jenna wasn’t able to muster up the BALLS to talk in front of large groups of people. Large groups being more then 3-4 people. Nah! I’m shitting with you, more then 1. NOW, this goes for people that were my age too like classmates and such. Older people- FORGET it! But it gets way worse. You see, I would weasel my way out of presentations all the time! And when I say weasel I mean like fucking crying, that ugly whaling that makes people want to put you out Old Yeller style. Snot spewing all over the place, puking chunks from dinner the night before. It was gruesome. Thinking about it actually gives me the chills. I was such a whinny little twat that the teachers just did it so they wouldn’t have to listen to me. Looking back on those days makes me wish I could visit the younger me and beat the shit out of her. Repulsive.

Usually it would result in me doing the presentation for the teacher only, before or after class. GAWD I hated that Jenn! That Jenn had no life skills at all! Sadly, this dragged on into College where the teachers became more strict, so I couldn’t get away with as much. Nothing the good ol’ doctors note here and there couldn’t fix.

Anywhore, the point of this shitty story is, yesterday I had to present myself to a bunch of parents in a meeting. All I had to do really was explain to them about myself, my job, the purpose or role of me being there, and how I would be an asset. Pretty simple right? Who can’t talk about themselves? Hell fucking, NO. Not this chicken shit.

I woke up a total disaster yesterday morning. Knotted stomach, the case of explosive kamehameha turds. (It’s a Dragon Ball Z reference for those who didn’t know). On top of that, I swear I woke up with a bladder infection because my stupid body decided to shut down over night! Yah! Good for nothing meat sack.

Well anyway’s, in the end, I did it. Pretty well I might add. *happy face* That’s pretty much it. I Chuck Norrised that shit fear in the FACE. BOOM.

Moral of the story is, if you were or are a giant pussy just like me, just shut up because one day, no one is going to give a shit about how nervous or stressed out you are. Or how many times you had to change your pants because you shat yourself. Your only choice is to do it, or go bury yourself in the backyard cause chances are, your not going to make it in life.

So grow some fucking Shark Balls! Those balls are the fiercest. You’ll thank me later.


You Might Want Life Insurance

Hello peanut, how are yah? How was your day? Oh that’s right, I forgot. Nobody gives a ! … You could at least pretend! *cries*

Whoa! 3 whole followers? Really? You actually read this shit? Good on you! *thumbs up* Well if you do, it’s because your freaking beyond awesome and totally deserve a cookie! And a follow back :-) But seriously, I’m flattered. I was expecting to sign-in and see BALLS. Your perfect. Rawr

Anywhore! Responses you shouldn’t get when you ask someone how their day at work is going -

“Horrible! I’m exhausted, my neck is killing me, my feet are swollen and can barely fit in a clown shoe, my supervisor is a super cunt, and I wish this fucking building from hell would EXPLODE”

Chances are with a response like that, you hate your job and you probably wish you were dead

Solution? Just kill the bitch and set the place on fire. But they provide you with income so that you can blow it on shit you probably don’t need to survive. *Sigh* Fuck it! Cow tits!

You guys! I need readable entertainment! I’m too lazy to search for your blogs, so send them to me! Post them! Do something! I’m a really good reader, I could read for hours! That and I have no life… Gosh I’m pathetic.

Cherry Popped!

Taking the virginity of anything is awesome! Whoa! First post on wordpress, feels pretty awesome. Speaking of which, do you ever have those days where you wish you could get a “punch a douche in the face” free all day admission pass? I know I do. There are just SOME people out there, walking around, minding their own shit, just like you! (Face it, we’re all douches) But you get this urge, this burning desire to knock them the fuck out for absolutely no reason whatsoever ! Just because you don’t like that stupid shirt they are wearing with “I <3 Boys” printed across their giant tits.
Giant tits (   .   ) (   .   )
That’s great! I’m glad you love boys, but shouldn’t you be “loving men” ?? I mean, your only 47. Boys should kinda be a thing in the past.
I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. I’m just in a crabby self-hating mood. I wish I had big tits. What was the point of this again? Ah, that’s right, me being a B  *gasp* -edtime

Sweet dreams to the people who don’t give a defecation.