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4.3 out of 5 stars
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33,960 of 34,492 people found the following review helpful
on 24 January 2012
Being a loose cannon who does not play by the rules the first thing I did was ignore the warning and smear this all over my knob and bollocks. The bollocks I knew and loved are gone now. In their place is a maroon coloured bag of agony which sends stabs of pain up my body every time it grazes against my thigh or an article of clothing. I am suffering so that you don't have to. Heed my lesson. DO NOT PUT ON KNOB AND BOLLOCKS.

(I am giving this product a 5 because despite the fact that I think my bollocks might fall off, they are now completely hairless.)
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2,269 of 2,411 people found the following review helpful
After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly successful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits.

Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the missus's birthday as a bit of a treat.I ordered it well in advance and working in the North sea I considered myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types...oh my fellow sufferers how wrong I was.

I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen. I didn't have long to wait.

At first there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head.

Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the destruction of the meat and two veg.

Struggling to not bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel of in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair.Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief.

I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid of and positioned it under me. The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing soon returned.

Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn't managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the draw for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon. I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse.

This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found it's way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running it's engines behind me.This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain.

The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before.

Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering..." Ooooh that feels good "

Understandingly this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn't heard her come in it caused an involuntary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction.

I can understand that having a sprout farted against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn't the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn't improve my status...

So to sum it up Veet removes hair, dignity and self respect....... :-
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6,209 of 6,980 people found the following review helpful
on 17 April 2012
I like the clean shaven look down in my gentleman's log cabin, so for the past few years I've used a shaver. However the hair keeps growing back which means every 6 months I have to spend 20 minutes trimming again. As I'm sure you've realise this is valuable time I cannot waste. So I decided to get to the root of the problem and purchased this product.

Probably the first thing you will notice after using this product is the pain. Although as a man I lack the required experience, I'm going to estimate that using this product is at least eleven times more painful than childbirth.
Imagine sticking a rusty razor blade into your favourite eye, before tying your hands behind your back. Then imagine that you use the entrenched razor blade to slice open a raw onion. All the while being butt naked. This product is slightly more painful than that.

However if we ignore the blinding, crippling and debilitating pain I should point out that this product is remarkably effective. Before, all manner of organisms great and small lived down there, now nothing can grow; not even on a cellular level. Sadly this includes my genitalia; I've spent the last four hours staring fixedly at Carol Vorderman's arse, all to no avail. My tinkywinkleton hasn't even so much as perked up, so if my review seems a bit harsh, it's only because I wanted children.

In summary:

Pros: A small expense, certainly didn't burn a hole in my pocket.

Cons: Did burn a hole in my scrotum

All in all an effective and reasonably priced product - 3 Stars.
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2,734 of 3,108 people found the following review helpful
on 25 April 2012
Excellent product. Most prisoners confessed within five minutes of the first application. Can recommend.

Yours,
Ali Muhabarakah,
Secret Police, Damascus
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755 of 859 people found the following review helpful
on 15 April 2012
Makes my farts sound louder. The hair must have acted as a interlocking silencer.. I give this the big thumbs up. 5/5
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391 of 445 people found the following review helpful
on 27 April 2012
This was the most fantastic product ever invented due to the hilarity it has produced for all us women!! Most definitely THE funniest reviews EVER!!!!!
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44 of 50 people found the following review helpful
on 6 November 2012
Although not over-haired in the enchanted forest area, I was aware of my wife's disapproving looks at my now greying undercarriage thatch; her plot being as neat as an OCD's suffer's front lawn.

So, keen to earn some matrimonial brownie points & having heard of Veet's efficacy in this department, I bought a tube of said product &, when home, ensconced alone in the bathroom trouser-and-pantless, I took the worse decision of my life to date: not to read the instructions & to apply the cream liberally to my gene carriers & plunder sword. Not one to spoil the ship for a ha'porth of tar & to help cure a Klingon problem I occasionally suffered from, I put a decent dollop up the council gritter using the handy spatula thoughtfully supplied with the product. The descent into hell had begun...

Within 2 minutes the areas had begun to redden & warm up. My last cogent thought for a number of hours was "ah, this must be the unguent profitably at work...". My next utterances were a series of "oh's", each louder than the last until I was screaming like a Concorde engine at full thrust.

The pain took me almost to blackout point. It was like placing your precious tackle on a razorwire covered anvil & getting Geoff Capes to pound them with a 2lb lump hammer. My log chute felt like it was being enthusiastically rogered with a red hot poker the size & shapeof a large table leg.

Screaming & crying like an orphan on Christmas Day I leapt into the bath &, manoeuvering limbo-like my tortured fruit & veg under the taps, I turned the cold on full blast. Big mistake. My cherished belongings were now tender as a 15 year-old's first kiss. My chuff-hole was in no better condition.

By now my bellowing & the water cascading down the stairs in (I imagine) bloody torrents had alerted my wife to the fact that all was not tickety-boo in her better half's life. Racing into the bathroom, she was confronted by the sight of her beloved bollock-naked, red from head to foot, glowing dangerously in the pleasure areas & screaming like a choirboy on helium.

Mercifully at this point I succumbed to blessed unconsciousness & woke I know not how much later to find my throbbing, ruby coloured (but, to be fair, hairless) butcher's selection covered in yoghurt, complete with pots (not sure if the strawberry flavour helped) thoughtfully provided by my wife (luckily she's not a fan of porridge).

Now, 2 weeks later, I no longer walk like John Wayne with a cactus up his dirt-box, but trip daintily along taking tiny steps like a ballerina with her ankles tied. That said, my meaty choices, once subject to the slow but inevitable influence of gravity (I'll never forgive Isaac Newton for discovering it) are now perky as a day-old lamb, albeit not as cute & definitely not something to point out to the kids.

In summary: a good product achieving exactly what it aims to do. However I do deduct 1 point for not providing something to alleviate the pain like, say, a bag of heroin & a supply of needles. 4/5.
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3,272 of 3,734 people found the following review helpful
on 24 April 2012
As a highly competitive amateur athlete, I have long been aware of the benefits of a highly polished scrotum pole and hair-free saddle-bags, especially when going for the `longer look' as displayed by Linford in his famous lunchbox.

Previously I had used the old-school method of a cutthroat razor, but as you can imagine, this was a tricky and delicate operation, and to make matters worse, it was difficult to get into a comfortable position in the chair at my local Barbers. Anyway, I am quite hairy down there and my snippet valve looks like Brian May's plughole so eventually the Barber said he could no longer perform the task for me. He also said that looking up my whizzer every Saturday at 11:30 put him off his lunch, as he usually has toad-in-the-hole followed by chocolate-coated donuts as a Saturday treat.

He did not want to leave me in the lurch and said that he had read some excellent reviews on Amazon about Veet for men and suggested I give it try.

Like many other reviewers, I made the mistake of not reading the bumph properly; I used the whole tube and completely coated my cock eggs, barse and nipsy with the stuff. Anyway, I lost track of time, and it was the foul stench of dissolving clinkers and melting hair that brought me to my senses. As I looked at my watch through the putrid fog that had formed around me, I could see that it had been applied for exactly 5 minutes 59 seconds. This presented me with a problem, as when the searing pain began, I was outside my flat, sat in the communal gardens, in a deck chair precisely 100 meters and 3 flights of stairs away from my bathroom. It was as if I had lowered my under-carriage through a volcano and into Hades, whereupon Beelzebub, annoyed by the uninvited intrusion, jabbed me in the rectum with his fork.

I took off from the deckchair like Usain Bolt out of the TV adverts. Within 12 seconds, the bathroom was filled with steamy fetid barse broth, and I had the clock weights, biffin's-bridge and Sherriff's badge under ice-cold running water at the tap end of the bath. This did not please the missus, as she was relaxing in there at the time surrounded by floating petals and candles, although she did say that the sight of my ringpiece flashing like a brake light was impressive, and she was pleased to see that my arse barnacles had all but disappeared.

When I looked at my watch again, I realised how quickly I had made it up the stairs and the idea dawned on me that I had discovered a 100% legal sports performance enhancer. Now when I compete in a competition I dab a small amount around my Samantha Janus and taint exactly 6 minutes before the race is due to start. If I am doing the hurdles, I change the ratio and put more on my barse to make me jump higher. This proved to be particularly effective a couple of weeks ago, as after crossing the hurdles finish line, I accidentally won the high jump and steeple chase too, looking for the water jump to wash the stuff off.

Now I can hear you all thinking that none of this is particularly extraordinary, especially given the reviews that you have already read. However, when I tell you that I am 45 years old, 5' 4" tall and weigh 15 stone, and I used to do the shot-put that should put things into context. As this is an Olympic year I think Tagnutt and Mandeville or whatever their names are, should be redesigned with hairless nether-regions and the British squad should use my technique and be sponsored by Veet, although I don't recommend it for the beach volley ball team.

5 Stars from me.
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325 of 371 people found the following review helpful
on 5 May 2012
Thank you so much you silly men who have made my mum and I cry with laughter over their de-fuzzing techniques. The best laugh I have had for a long time.
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1,848 of 2,113 people found the following review helpful
on 3 May 2012
Sergeant slaughter and his two lovely daughters
Do get the occasional trim.
New bird on the stage, nearly half my age
My purchase a bit of a whim

The instruction book did not get a look
I thought I knew how to use Veet
Whipped out my tower, whilst stood in the shower
Spreading it liberally all over my meat

I flipped off the cap, lifted up the old chap
Pushing the limits i'm sure
I wanted to groom in the valley of doom
Now my starfish is bleeding and raw

I tried to keep calm washing off the napalm
Leaving me all of a fluster
You could boil a small lake or cook a big steak
With the heat from my genital cluster.

Less grass on the wicked, but all's still not cricket
It does add an inch or two
A full week past, how long will it last?
Still unable to sit, stand or poo.

You may well cry but tears will dry,
Leaving balls as smooth as jam jars,
My slong looks huge, still no sign of pubes
So i'm happy to award it 5 stars
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