Sunburn

So this weekend I got a sunburn. The searing result of being a red-headed, pale freckled kid with only moderate amounts of sunscreen. I was actually counting on my glaring white skin to reflect the light away, leaving me unscathed, but alas, I am lightly toasted. But I've always been known to be a little too hot, am I right ladies? Ladies...?

Actually, it could have been worse. I'm only red on my shoulders and two tiny patches on my forehead where the hair parts. So just to give you an image, I look like a reject extra from a Braveheart battle scene. But don't think about it too long, the thought of my topless torso has been known to cause nightmares.

And to make matters worse, I am beginning to peel. Yet another side effect of being carelessly under-SPFed. And, speaking of head and shoulders, it makes me look like I have dandruff, or what I like to call skinflakes... each one is unique.
I'm slowly shedding a layer of skin, like a snake or something. Sometimes I'll even break down and (in a wicked witch of the west kind of way) I'll scream "I'm moooooooooollllllllllting!" Though, to be honest, I'm more worried about it revealing my metal endoskeleton. Hey, terminators get sunburn too.

Just because my sunburn barely scratches the surface of being a first degree burn (according to the Boy Scout handbook), that doesn't mean it doesn't smart a little. Ideally, I'd have a team of midgets slathering aloe on my skin. But ever since I saw an oompa loompa, I've been scared of little people.
Or how 'bout razing a rainforest of aloe plants and squeezing them into a giant vat that I can wallow in to soothe my irritated shoulders. Nah, that'll never work, Greenpeace hates it when you try that stuff.

So I'll probably just end up doing nothing. After all, that's how I got burnt in the first place.