Egads! I do remember a terrible time in my teens when I thought I had herpes and tried to burn them off, cut them off, dig them out, all sorts of horrific torture masquerading as home surgery. Bathtime was like something from the 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre' and I'm just lucky the thing didn't fall off.
Back then we didn't have the internet and I was unable to recognise what a blocked hair follicle looked like.
"You're a big man, but you're in bad shape. With me, it's a full time job." – Lt. Bromhead to Prince Dabulamanzi before the Battle of Rorke's Drift.
My sister. She's bored senseless at the moment, stuck in plaster with an achilles tendon problem. She found it and passed it onto me. I a have no truck with this hair removal lark! That is for the modern Metrosexual Man! That's not my style, I'm afraid.