Man, I don’t know what it is, but I get sunburnt more easily than Steven Milne seems to be able to escape a rape charge (allegedly… cough). I was outdoors for a total of about 2 hours yesterday and got burnt so badly that I’ve spent the majority of the day today avoiding the Sun to protect myself from further 3rd degree burns. I really thought that once I’d gotten to ‘the big island’, my sunburn woes would finally subside, but it appears that Melbourne is just as bad as Tassie.

They say that the Sun in Tasmania is far stronger than in other parts of the world because we’re directly underneath the hole in the ozone layer, meaning that you get burnt far more rapidly when the Sun is out, even on colder days. Talk about a huge kick in the balls – it’s hardly ever warm in Tasmania, but when it is, you get cooked like an egg as soon as you walk out of the house. That’s totally fucked. I spend the majority of daylight hours during the week at work staring out the window of a suburban office, ruing the fact that my choice of career will, in time, lead to a severe vitamin D deficiency, so when I finally do get the chance to get out in the Sun, it’s upsetting that it punishes me so much.

I was down at the Queen Victoria Market this afternoon purchasing bulk amounts of rump steak at greatly reduced prices for the next two weeks of consumption (because I’m a man, fuckers!) and managed to acquire a disgusting straw cowboy hat for $20 to protect my face from further physical assault from ultra-violet rays, because my ample forehead quite honestly can’t take a great deal more from that flaming ball of fire that somehow hovers in our planet’s vicinity (ever thought about the sheer mechanics of the Earth orbiting the Sun, how we are far enough away to not burn up but close enough to not freeze? That shit will blow your fucking mind). I’ll be wearing it with the same eagerness that a Survivor contestant wears the Immunity Idol from here on in, because I don’t want no skin cancer, yo! (cringe).

How fucking ridiculous…

Earlier today, I was out eating breakfast down the road from my house when a kid went past on some totally fucked-up looking apparatus (I was later advised that the contraption was called a ‘ripstick’ – basically a completely fucked version of the humble skateboard) that looked about as easy to ride as a Clydesdale horse covered in thumb tacks… Who the fuck invents these contraptions? It’s beyond ridiculous. It didn’t even look like that much fun, to be honest, and the kid was labouring with it in the same way that a past-due pregnant woman labours when she puts the groceries onto the back seat of her family sedan.

Oh well, at least he wasn’t riding a Razor scooter…

/end communication

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