Getting on my wick

So I finally got annoyed enough with my ear to try a hopi ear candle today. And the result of this incredible, age-old mystical form of treatment?

Well, a bit rubbish, to be honest.

I picked up a couple this morning (one for each ear) while in Staines, and the woman in the shop said that although she'd never used them, a lot of customers raved about them (this gave me a mental image of some people using ear candles like glow sticks and getting off their tits in a field). I smiled, and walked off with the miracle cure clutched in my grubby little paws.

Half an hour later I was at Sparky Ma and Pa's, and Sparky Ma was reading the instructions to the hopi ear candles and occasionally reading bits out in a slightly dubious 'this hippy-crap ain't really gonna work' kinda way.

So I rested my head on the table, Ma whacked a candle in my ear, lit it - and we were away.

Dum-dee-dum-dee-dee... There's not really much you can do while the ear candle smoulders away in your ear, and the flames you can see licking away in your peripheral vision are kind of disconcerting. This is probably why they advise you to close your eyes and enjoy the mystical, erm, experience...

Anyway, 10-12 minutes later and the candle was down to the filter (it's actually more like an ear cigarette). I opened my eyes, ready to tilt my head upright and for the floodgates to open and all the lovely wax to come flooding out an-

Oh.

That's right. Nothing happened.

Actually, that's a lie. There was a little bit of ear goo. Damned thing didn't even make me feel high.

So I sat there, watching The X-Factor repeat and taking the mickey out of the little 16 year-old who cries all the time thinking what a waste of money those bloody candles were.

File under - Diagnosis: Rubbish.

The search for a cure continues...