Mo bought Nad's. You know the hair remover stuff from that mom in Australia who created it for her hairy daughter?

We have to watch that infomercial everytime it comes on. It's fascinating. It's green, it doesn't hurt, it made the bearded woman part of society again.

The women ooh and aah about how it's changed their lives. If you use it enough, your hair will actually stop growing. Essentially you stun your poor follicles and in a protest over the abuse, they quit.

Basically, it's a goopy lime miracle.

Mo's been announcing the need for Nad's in her life (hee) for months. She finally called and ordered.

Yesterday was the day of reckoning. The Nad's arrived. She giggled about and wondered if the Nad's lady would come and do her legs.

Well hello Nad's Lady! What a special treat!

She set up Nad Camp in our upstairs middle room. When I got home from work she'd removed like, all the hair on her body.

She whined about the blister she got on the palm of her hand from "firmly rubbing the linen strip in the direction of the hair growth three times."

Gross. You have a Nad's Blister, I told her.

This morning? Her legs look like she rolled around in an ant hill or something.

And to add insult to injury - they're still stubbly.

The lesson? Don't get overzealous with the Nad's. Because it doesn't work anyway.

I'll stick with the Mach 3, thanks.

And one more thing:

See. Now. I know having the same name as someone doesn't make them like you or anything.

But here's what's weird.

Not only do we share a name, but she grew up in the subdivision next to me in Houston, and we would've gone to the same high school had she not moved away.

And she's blonde (from what I gather) and she also aches to move back to Texas. And she likes the Old 97's, and she has a friend named Alison. See? Weird.

So you know, go read Hannah and her Naked Sometimes. If I have to come over there and click that mouse for you, you're gonna be in trouble, Mister.