Pink

So after the drab nine months of British summer I was pleased to look outside and find a beautiful sunny day presiding over the city of York.  This prompted me to put on my summer attire (Something similair to my winter attire but without a t-shirt) and sit outside.

It was around two hours later that I went inside and was reminded just how my body works.  You see, I could stay out in the Sahara all afternoon and not burn, I will infact stay a pasty white.  Around 20 minutes of entering the shade however my hours of sunshine excess suddenly hit me with the force of a lump hammer.  My skin turns a lobster red, the stinging starts, i become unable to enter any water, or even room a slightly different temperature.

All in all i think I would prefer it if my skin just warned me by becoming pink a soon as I started to burn.

Sunday Blues

I think on some occasions Sundays are even worse than Mondays.

If you cant find anything to do you sit there, bored, and becoming increasingly aware that tomorrow you will be working and that you should possibly be doing something.

I don't think there is anything on gods green earth as mind numbingly boring as Sunday afternoons with the possible exception of Big Brother, Which is a lot of people who have personality disorders set in the location of a perpetual Sunday afternoon.

Big Brother is not only as heavily boring as a Sunday afternoon but also intensely annoying, rather like incredibly bad tooth ache.

In other news me and the Girlfriend are officially back together, though I'm not sure how long for. She is really nice and I do like her but sometimes it just doesn't feel like a relationship. No it is not Aussie girl by the way, that is long dead and buried.

However, I was thinking of getting an electricians/Carpenters qualification, doing a few years work over here and emigrating to New Zealand or Australia. I do think that it might just be a bad idea though as my natural 'couldn't give a shit' attitude may just win me the Darwin award as I step onto a poisonous shell like creature, jump backwards into a poisonous spiders web, flail around and get my leg bitten off by a crocodile (Ironically saving me from the poison) before falling into a watering hole and being savaged by a duck billed platypus.

Maybe I'll just move to Melbourne, the worst that could happen tome there is getting run over by Harold Bishop.

Anyhow, back to procrastinating.