I have a big phat sunburn, and it hurts a lot. I made the mistake of going out in the sun without protection, and boy did I get raw dogged. Like every late night text I’ve ever sent, the sun left me on red. I am a walking hot pocket. My nipples are thoroughly cooked kielbasa. Dinner is ready.
I’ve been spending most of my day rubbing ice cubes all over my body. And yea I know I already do that every Sunday, but the camcorder isn’t even set up this time. No clue where the tripod is either, considering my parents keep stealing it. Must be shooting some type of cooking show in their bedroom or something. Explains all the missing fruit. I swear this house goes through a new can of whip cream every day.
And I know everyone is saying, “Tim, why didn’t you just wear sun screen lotion?” Simple. Lotion is gay. Ask either of my dads. I sort of feel transgender with how uncomfortable I feel in my own skin. I finally understand the hidden bliss behind being a serial killer, because wearing someone else’s skin doesn’t sound all that bad right now.
It’s so bad I can’t even complete simple tasks. I tried to rinse off after the beach, and let me tell you, a shower hasn’t hurt that bad since I went to that Penn State Football camp. I tried to walk on the team. Ended up limping out. I wanted to spend a year as a red shirt, ended up just driving home with red underwear.
At this point I think I’m a different race, and honestly I’m all in. I’m taking all my white man chips and cashing them in. I’m taking my white privilege to the pawn shop. I’m getting out before this all comes crashing down. It’s coming soon. The only issue is I’m not sure what race my new skin falls under. I think I might just pick a new one.
I’m thinking of going Native American, but that’s sort of a double edged tomahawk. On one hand I do love face paint and accessories, but I also can’t stand camping and casinos. I guess being able to ride a horse everywhere would cut down on the money I spend on Ubers. Then again, I don’t know how to ride a horse. Think I might need a couple hits of their peace pipe to think it over.
I might go black, but you know what they say. “Once you go black, you can never go…..near a police station”. Also I know who my dad is, so I don’t think I could pull that one off.
Middle Eastern? Enticing. I do hate airports. I’ve always wanted to grow a beard. Also wouldn’t hate wearing a burka every day. That’s a personality outfit if I’ve ever seen one. You know I’d go commando too. Probably so easy to sneak food into movie theaters with that thing.
I don’t know. Too many options. Maybe I’ll just stay and sign a max contract with the white men. I could go to the white women, but everyone knows I’d have to take a pay cut.
You know what they say “suns out, guns out”, and apparently it’s always sunny in U.S. public schools.
PS: Copperstone sunscreen has low key the rapiest logo ever. Looks like something straight out of Mitch Martinez’s hard drive.