Nair Mail

You love your woman and she adores the way you use your tongue but she refuses to shave her bush. You're sore from bush wacking through her Brillo pad. So you apply a salve of agent orange to her secret garden with a mouthful of Nair. Once deforrested, she wakes up shocked to find that her Amazon had been converted to a manicured golf course. Now you can deliver your tongue to the new address.

She: I couldn't talk after the way you navigated my jungle.

He: It was hairy, Babe. I had to nair mail it before the bush came down and I found El Dorado