Thursday, August 24, 2006

How The Gillette Fusion Saved My Life

The comfort of five blades, the precision of one and the lethal potential of none.

I was shaving today, as I do every second day. I've been shaving for many years and could probably count on one hand the number of times I've actually cut myself (usually little nicks happen before special occasions so I can really look like a dumb ass). I'm really that good.

So anyways, as usual I'm applying the shaving cream, acting real cool checking myself out in the mirror. A bit of hot water on the razor and we're off.

Enter: tragedy.

In a moment of weakened dexterity, the handle slips in my foam covered fingers and, coming down sideways in a powerful motion, the top of the razor moves across my neck, over my jugular.

The razor falls from my fingers as I clutch for my neck. With my eyes shut tightly, I can feel the warm liquid pouring out of me and my life virtually flashes before my eyes; This is it, I'm done for.

After endless seconds, I open one of my eyes to inspect the damage:

I've escaped unscathed.

A bit of water pours from my fingers, but there isn't so much as a shaving rash on my neck. The protective casing of the five razor blades has saved my life. Instead of laying in a pool of my own blood, I'm giggling and splashing water onto my face.
Thank you Gillette Fusion, I knew there was a reason I paid fucking fifteen bucks for you.

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