So, last Wednesday I did a brilliant thing: I went riding my bike for one half hour. Exercise is good. I did not wear a shirt because I wanted to keep my fantastic physique off white (darker than Michael Jackson) rather than white, whiter and whitest. I didn’t (and here’s the stupid part) wear any sun screen because there was no reason to because I wasn’t going to be out that long. Don’t even get me started about how dangerous that was in the skin cancer department because I was just trying to darken up a little for a boat party next weekend.
So, now I’m rather itchy on my back and last night I couldn’t sleep for a while due to feeling like I was going to go jump off of a bridge [with lots of water under it], a small chair and the bottom step of my stairs so that I could end the agony. Jessica helped me make an oatmeal bath and I was finally able to rest.
However… the itch is back on my back – why did I have to try to beat the white by going red?
Randy, Randy, When will you learn that our family is white. We don’t tan, We burn, peel, and turn wite again. If you really want to be “tan” (which is still deathly pale for the rest of the world) it’s all about consistency in small amounts!