Sometimes You Feel Like a Nut, Sometimes You Don't

No secret that I am picky about the twig and berries.

In a town where blow jobs are a dime a dozen and safe sex means that they don't (usually) fuck while driving, I am a mite selective with what I put between my legs or dog forbid in my mouth.

(The Lou is consitantly in the Top 10 for Gonorrhea and Syphilis according to U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.)

Oooooooh! Now we are talking FUN!

I would rather chomp on a piece of gum I find on a gas station bathroom floor than to screw some of the garbage dick that roams aimlessly around this town.

YIKES!

That being said, even once I have determined that IT is cleanish, which for me entails me actually being in a relationship with the dude and his agreeing to be tested, IT still needs to be maintained properly or it's a no go.

Nothing will turn my head faster than discovering that my companion has a wookie bush.

Truth be known, I like my men shaved pretty much everywhere and possessing a bicycle (and/or a fantastic dog), so if you don't have a bicycle or a dog, you better not have a wookie bush either.

Wookies are not pets.

Last year I started dating a very sweet and pretty boy (28 yrs old) who looked simply amazing naked. Fantastic (and functioning) penis. Very tall. Employed. Post-grad. So cute.

However...

He had the dreaded "wookie bush".

Holy hell and damnation.

Fooling around was like going on a safari.

It seriously limited my play time, as who wants to die being smothered by a mass of wiry, itchy hairs?

Now, because he was "polite for male", he never asked me to go downtown, but I used the one time we got on the topic to bring up his pet wookie.

He had read my previous blogs regarding the subject when I had discovered Detective Wookie Bush, but somehow did not think it applied to him.

SO cute!

He looked at me and blinked a lot.

I could see that he had been able to get by solely on his cuteness in the past and did not know what to do with a woman who knew what she wanted.

Awwwww! It was simply precious how he looked at me as if he could not fathom the possibility that I had not been sitting at my townhouse those years on the edge of my front steps just awaiting him to move into a neighboring condo and bless my life with his penis.

I mean, I had been...in a way...as I just expected a hot guy with a fantastic penis to drop right out of the sky, and I put zero effort into "looking" for a mate, so he was pretty close.

But still. Wookie is wookie and it must go.

I came home one night and called him for our nightly chit chat.

He told me to come over because he had a surprise for me.

Being a girl, when I hung up I squealed and tried my best to look cute and less exhausted and casually (with hidden excitement) walked the 4 doors to his place.

Because he is a sweet and adorable goofball, he is wrapped in his sheet when I walk into his room.

He drops the sheet.

There, with the second most beautiful penis on the planet is my surprise.

He has gone Edward Scissorhands on his wookie bush.

I swear he must have used garden shears.

Oh my!

There were paths shaved into it like when one shovels snow.

There were like 5 straggly hairs hanging from his balls.

It was a mess.

But it was a sweet mess.

This scared little man-boy had attacked his genitalia with sharp objects to make me happy.

And all the important stuff was still there so I could do nothing but reward him.

He never quite grasped the art of maintenance and only trimmed the wookie about bimonthly, but it was still sweet.

I would later get a proposal from this man and I can say with certainty that the wookie bush moment was by far a sweeter (and more satisfying) thing.

Men, if you do little else, learn the fine art of manscaping. The rewards are plenty.