Silky smooth? You're not getting laid

I'm no scientist, but I do know that there are some things that happen for a reason, and I have no explanation for them, I just know they exist.

Take de-fuzzing as an example. The law of averages says, that if I wax/shave/pluck on say... Wednesday night, guaranteed, I'm not going to have sex, don't as me why. It just is.

Now, I'm not alone in this thinking, a lot of girlfriends have commented on this and its common knowledge down our neck of the woods (excuse the pun). It may work in the same principal of the ugly knickers theory. Wear them and you won't sleep with the guy you really want to sleep with on the night you're really ready to sleep with him, all because you're wearing your 'ugly pants'. And all of this, is because you want to hold out a little longer, and sweeten the berry so to speak.

The thing is, we girls pluck and preen ourselves to oblivion in the hope that on the night we are wearing the 'pretty pants with plunging bikini line' we are going to have sex.

No ladies, it just doesn't seem to work like that. In fact, I've noticed its efficiency in disabling all chances of shagging to be so inevitable, it could be named as another form of contraception, along with toddlers (i know from experience), stalker ex's (yours and his) and athletes foot (his and hers).

To put this to the test, I have myself worn the ugly pants and de-fuzzed to perfection! And very proud I was, not a single stray eyebrow/bikini/5am shadow in sight! Truth is, if you're that proud of your unhairiness, you will expel all number of clothing to display your prowess in the home beautician department. And I did! All those hours of preening paid off, only to find him giggling at my boy shorts with saggy elastic later on. I really didn't think he'd seen them...

How many of us have trembled when he's put his hands on our calfs and slowly rubbed them up and down, and thought "oh my god, he can feel my stubble, he thinks I'm a man!, It's over, I'm done for, the games a bogey!, oh please keep kissing me!" and then tried to divert his attention by doing something saucy away from any likely danger spots.

Well, I know I have, and its a nightmare. The thought of him finding out you actually have body hair is like telling him Santa Claus doesn't exist, and making a grown man cry isn't on my list of seduction techniques, not that I actually have any, but if I did, oh, you get the picture.

The only answer I can recommend is getting some hot chick to release another catchy pop song, and get her to prance about wafting her armpit hair with pride. (remember Nena?) That way it'll dispel the myths that we don't grow hair, it will earn us kudos for the work we do for hair free sex, and it will cost us less in home beauty treatments, and more money for shoes, bags etc.

FREE THE PUBIC HAIRS!

GROW AND LET LIVE!

WEAR YOUR MUSTACHE WITH PRIDE!

I can see it now, a revolution in hair products, a revival, a new age in personal hygiene... just don't have any!

OK, I'm kidding and have went on a tangent I agree, but all this fuss over our inability to have sex with someone we really like? All because we think our fluff makes us unworthy?

Isn't it more likely, that at the end of the day, if he really really likes us, and has had plenty of time to get to know us, a little fluff isn't going to set him running off into the distance.

On the other hand, if you're culturing a 70's retro bush in your underpants, it may be time to see that girl who does home visits your friends have been hinting at for a few weeks now...