The vagaries of the shaving industry (I shit you not)
Yesterday I elected to buy a razor from a pharmacy close to my work. Just call me a slave to the razor industry!
That in itself would not perhaps be worthy of sharing with the world (or the handful of deficients who choose to read my thoughts), but as it happened something irked me about this razor once I had sawed it out of its almost impregnable and vastly oversized packaging with a kitchen knife.
For some reason my razor (and this may demonstrate how closely I examine my prospective purchases), has a button which when depressed, causes the device to vibrate. Now I have considered this from a number of perspectives, and there is no possible shaving based explanation I can summon to mind, that might necessitate a razor vibrating, or would indicate that it may benefit from such a motion.
With the manufacturers of these pulsating horrors now adding an extra blade every six months in order to persuade the consumer they must rush out and buy a new product, soon the lethally gyrating battery of steel won’t even fit on the face.
That in itself would not perhaps be worthy of sharing with the world (or the handful of deficients who choose to read my thoughts), but as it happened something irked me about this razor once I had sawed it out of its almost impregnable and vastly oversized packaging with a kitchen knife.
For some reason my razor (and this may demonstrate how closely I examine my prospective purchases), has a button which when depressed, causes the device to vibrate. Now I have considered this from a number of perspectives, and there is no possible shaving based explanation I can summon to mind, that might necessitate a razor vibrating, or would indicate that it may benefit from such a motion.
With the manufacturers of these pulsating horrors now adding an extra blade every six months in order to persuade the consumer they must rush out and buy a new product, soon the lethally gyrating battery of steel won’t even fit on the face.
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