I germinated and replanted over a few days week before last and have sprouts already coming up. Beans, okra and lettuce and I already hit them fuckers with Sevin insecticide. I also dusted all the peppers, melons and cukes then hit the tomatoes last. I really hated to do the tomatoes because there were a bunch of ladybugs in there doing a job on the aphids, but they just weren't cutting it.
Keep up or die, bitches.
Then, I swear to God, the day after I planted I went out and motherfucking weeds are there, especially spurge. Shit's popping up everywhere so I strip off my shirt and commence to pull weeds. I got about 3 rows done and my back was beginning to ache from all that bending and besides, an hours' worth of sun was plenty for my lily white skin.
The next morning I get up early and knock out another 3 rows knowing that the shit that I weeded yesterday already has more weeds coming up. I know they're new weeds because the ones I missed the day before are 3 times bigger. I checked my back when I came in, just slightly pink. Oh well, at least the weeding is saving me from my annual sunburn.
After noon on Monday, I did another 3 rows and the melon patch. About 2, I got a call from a root canal specialist saying they had a cancellation and could I possibly drive 15 miles in city traffic in 20 minutes for my consultation?
As soon as I hit the vinyl seat of my truck I screamed, bounced off the top of the cab and maybe pissed myself a little. The kind of pain where you have a back spasm so bad you can't breathe. I had my annual sunburn.
So I sit straight up in my seat, damned near in tears with the music up loud so Hank III's caterwaulin' will cover up the sounds of my whimpering and went to have a root canal done. Might as well get the hurtin' over with all at once, you know?
I find the place and go in to the little room and sit in the chair. My back is so sore that I can't relax. The doc checks it and says yup, sure enough I need a root canal but luckily he's got an opening right now, otherwise I have to wait 3 weeks.
Fuck. My back is on fire but my mouth has been giving me fits for a couple months now. What to do, what to do...... Fuck it. I'm here. Bring on the root canal. Let's see if I'm as tough as I think I am.
I spent the next hour and a half in the dentist chair and the only parts of me that was touching that motherfucker was my shoulder blades and the cheeks of my ass.
Turns out I'm a fucking pussy, man. I was sniveling like a little bitch when he was done.
I ended up calling in Tuesday. I was so sun-sick I was puking and my back was so tender I couldn't bear the thought of cloth touching it.
I went in the rest of the week even though I was in fucking agony. I only have 3 sick days left and I want to burn those either fishing or coyote hunting, not waste them on a fucking sunburn.
Plus I wanted to show it off to all my buddies at work. You can imagine their reactions when they saw this:
When I showed this to my buddies at work it was hilarious - they'd get a horrified look on the face, cover their mouth and gasp. Every time. They looked like girls, especially when I could get a group of 6 or 7 together at the same time.
I must've gone through 3 cans of Solarcaine so far and I still can't take a warm shower or sleep on my back.
This picture also proves beyond a doubt that I am not a plumber - even bending over and pulling weeds, the crack of my ass is still untouched.
But sonofabitch, that motherfucker is still driving me crazy. Now the blisters are popping and it's starting to peel and ohmyGod the itching......
I remember a few years back I was fly fishing Modesto Reservoir for spotted bass in a float tube. It was January but a clear day and man, the temps came up to about 60 degrees so I stripped off my shirt and started catching nice sized spots by casting small poppers right off the point of this small island. After about 45 minutes I put my shirt back on but the damage was done. I had sunburned my fucking armpits. Between holding my arms up to cast my fly and the sun reflecting off that clear water, my shit was cooked. I walked around for a week holding my arms out like some exaggerated gunfighter pose.