Example: [Healey & Glanvill, 1994]
For her hen-night treat, a friend of a friend went with some mates to see one of those raunchy male stripper acts.
The ladies were having a riot ogling the hunky fellas' bulging pecs. They were getting all over-excited, shrieking as the gyrating Adonises disrobed.
Apparently, the bride-to-be got a little tipsy and forced her way to the front of the stage to get a better view. Dancing in a frenzy, she was almost overcome when, at the climax of his act, one of the writhing hunks whipped off his shiny
A couple of days later she was checking her complexion in the bathroom mirror when she noticed a spot near her eyelid. This blemish was a little worrying; with the wedding at the weekend she wanted to look her best for the photographs.
Over the next few days, she tried every kind of cream, but the spot just got larger and larger until she was driven to visit the doctor.
The quack took one look, and informed the girl that he'd have to operate immediately: she had a pubic louse living in her face.
Origins: This legend shows up in a 1993 collection of urban legends, putting paid to the notion of a radio DJ recently inventing the tale in an effort to start an urban legend.
The version quoted above is easy to dismiss as mere cautionary tale as pubic lice don't burrow in, they sit on the skin surface, sucking blood from there. In other forms of the legend, the louse lands in the girl's eye, causing immeasurable occular irritation, or it's found romping around in her eyebrow, where it retreated after being flung in her face. (Pubic lice do head for the hairy parts: the pubes, a head of hair, eyebrows, or a man's beard.)
The message of this legend is clear: about to be married or not, nice girls don't look at male strippers. Should they violate this rule, they are punished. In this case, the punishment is both creepy and embarrassing.
Cast your eyes downward, girls.
Barbara "especially in strip bars . . . otherwise, you'll miss the best parts!" Mikkelson
Last updated: 25 July 2005
Healey, Phil and Rick Glanvill. Now! That's What I Call Urban Myths. London: Virgin Books, 1996. ISBN 0-86369-969-3 (pp. 10-11).