Eating humble pie filled with hot wax

This Friday (July 18) I will be forced to eat my words. The good news is by the end of it I’ll look great in shorts.
Graeme 'Yer Man' CousinsGraeme 'Yer Man' Cousins
Graeme 'Yer Man' Cousins

On March 13 I penned a column about my misgivings towards male leg waxing as a form of charity fundraising.

Here’s an excerpt from that very column:

“Pick up a brochure for any beauty salon and you’ll find they offer unisex treatments whereby both women and men can avail of grooming procedures in a tranquil, relaxing environment. Metrosexual behaviour is postively encouraged in the modern man leading to a state of affairs where a man visiting a beauty salon is nothing out of the ordinary.

“The result of a charity waxing is some bloke getting a perfectly normal beauty treatment he would usually have to pay for, carried out painlessly by a trained professional.

“Look at it this way, would you pledge your cash to someone who was getting a hot stone massage or a cut and blow dry?”

It couldn’t have come as any great surprise when I was approached a few months later and asked if I’d be prepared to have my legs waxed for a very good cause.

I’m due to eat humble pie in the shape of a few dozen waxing strips at 2pm on Friday in Boots in Moira as part of a fun day to aid the Pancreatic Cancer Research Fund.

The group was set up locally by Susan Cooke in memory of her late husband Colin, who passed away aged 45 in February last year, leaving behind two young sons - Adam and Aaron.

Colin, who lived in Dollingstown, was well known through Scouting in Lurgan and Moira. I’d known Colin through the Scouts and was aware of his passion for adventure.

I reckon he’d have agreed with me that leg waxing was a fairly tame way to raise money for charity.

Still, I’m not complaining. I am not a brave man, nor as limber as I used to be, and a charity fundraising activity that involves me lying on my back can’t be bad.

However, I think due to my previous comments and given my position as journalist with the Lurgan Liar I’m not going to be given an easy ride on Friday.

Not only will I be forced to eat my words, but those gathered will also have the chance to tear strips off me.

But without pain there is no gain, so I’m hoping my screams along with those of fellow waxees Colin Lyness and Philip Semple can boost the charity’s coffers for research.

Anyone wishing to donate to this worthy cause can do so by logging on to Colin’s son Adam’s Just Giving webpage at

... and now for something completely different

There was a break-in at our house last Thursday night. I was disturbed by a bump in the night and ran downstairs with torch in hand.

My thundering footsteps on the stairs must have disturbed the intruder and caused him to flee. I shone the torch down the garden and caught a glimpse of the burglar’s face. It was none other than celebrity megastar Will Smith.

I phoned the police and they were round straight away. They were dubious about my claims that Will Smith had been the perpetrator, but having dusted the kitchen work surfaces, sure enough, they found the fresh prints of Bel Air.

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