Fuzz Away
When I started going to school my mum bought me a rather nifty little navy blue duffle coat. I fucking loved that duffle coat. It became my second skin. I’d have gladly laid down my life to save that stylish garment, I really fucking would.

It was about this time they had this gimpy little fella on an advert on the telly. He’d go on about some product or other and finish by saying: “I liked it so much, I bought the company!” Now, I was only five and didn’t really understand what this fella was selling, or why I was so damned petrified of him. But it was pretty obvious that one of his gadgets would make my navy blue duffle coat about a zillion times cooler. It was this little magic device that buzzed and shook as you rubbed it over your coat, and it took all the evil bobbles off and collected them in a little receptacle. It was named a magic box. Or, as I later discovered, a Remington Fuzz Away.

One Saturday after I’d been plonked in front of the TV I saw the ad again. Determined to make my coat AWSOME I went rummaging through my mum and dad’s bedroom to see if they had one of these making-coats-good contraptions. Finding what I wanted, I retrieved my coat from the hallway, returned to the living room, and proceeded to defuzz the fucker.

Didn’t seem to be doing much to my coat, but the damn contraption was covered in fluff so I supposed it must’ve been working. I gobbed on my hand and rubbed the fluff off in a few fluid motions. Then, intrigued, I raised the device to my mouth and touched the tip of my tongue to it. It felt weird. I needed more. So I clamped my mouth round it and hummed, it made my teeth rattle which – being five – I found absolutely fucking hilarious.

Moments later my mum wandered in from the garden with our next door neighbour. I looked up at them cheerfully, humming louder and louder so they could see how fucking hilarious my new-found game was too. My mum and the neighbour, a church-going God-bother of the finest order, both stared back. Time stopped. Everything went quiet except for the low, growling buzz of the instrument rattling against the inside of my mouth. My mum shot over and pulled the Fuzz Away out of my mouth with a wet plop!!! and shoved it in her pocket, she pulled me up and smacked me hard across the arse, going on about: “Don’t take things that don’t belong to you.”

Years later I discovered something important.

Remington Fuzz Away’s are not - ordinarily – pink. They are not usually variable speed. And they sure as hell are not typically phallic shaped and veiny.

Still makes me cringe... Yes, I’ve actually tasted the insides of my mums cum chamber...

*SHUDDERS*
( SpankyHanky, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 16:32, 16 replies)

You'll burn in hell.

( Larry Vest One day at a time, sweet Jesus, FFS., Thu 11 Feb 2010, 16:35, closed)

This is absolutely 100% true...
...and believe me, I wish it wasn't.

Just never got round to finding the right moment to talk to my mum about it. I assume she thinks I don't remember because I was only little...

Still know what it tasted like to this day.

(Oxo cubes, oddly enough)...
( SpankyHanky, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 16:39, closed)

Stop!
That's quite enough imagery for now.
Up to your room!

*clicks nine inches worth*
( Blind Meach Cautiously optimistic, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 16:42, closed)

Oxo cubes?
Did you ever find inappropriately sticky kitchen tools knocking about the place?

Brings a whole new meaning to beef curtains, if nothing else...
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Wed 17 Feb 2010, 11:19, closed)

99% true
One wonders, but there has to be some Freudian explanation to the phenomenon that is HankySpanky and I think that this might be it. So I believe you!
(justin(e), Wed 17 Feb 2010, 18:54, closed)

How could you?
First thing I ever did was to get out of there.
(FUXTIX Not my words, Carol, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 16:36, closed)

Oh God...
You get worse you do.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Thu 11 Feb 2010, 16:37, closed)

Hahaha!
Giggling like a loon here!
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 16:37, closed)

Seriously,
is it your mission in life to get me the sack, every time I read one of your posts which ALWAYS make me Lol, my boss walks in.
(Obi wanker nobi Its not a bug, its an unexpected feature, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 16:48, closed)

at first I read that as
"is it your mission in life to get me in the sack" which has a slightly different meaning!
( Vambo, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 16:53, closed)

My mum's vibrator kept being stolen by the dog
Prompting my 8 year old brother to yell "MUUUUUUMMMMM! Clarence has run off with your pink sausage thing again!"

Yes. We called a dog Clarence.
(mmmm curry doesn't really understand this sig lark, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 16:56, closed)

We have a winner.

( Grampa, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 19:15, closed)

officelols!
I nearly choked reading that.....as you almost did :D
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 19:34, closed)

Dude, you've *been* inside your mum's cum-chamber.

( idonthaveafunnynickname Drink-Aware? Sure. I'm aware I want another drink., Thu 11 Feb 2010, 21:47, closed)

What does it taste like now?
Just wondering :0)
( SpikeyPickle wishes he was mabazaritchie, Fri 12 Feb 2010, 11:27, closed)

I always thought they were for refilling Dad's cigarette lighters...
... After a hastily thought up reply from my Mum to my "What's this?".
Spent years wondering where you put the Gas in, how you got it out again and what the batteries were for.
I think it was the back pages of Fiesta that eventually set me right.
(whatfun?, Fri 12 Feb 2010, 14:28, closed)