Okay I really didn’t tell her to eat my choad – I said thanks – but that was my subtext. The sunburn is pretty bad. The worst part is you can see where I had the goggles on. I’m a fucking racoon. I might have to not go to work tomorrow. I’m hoping it dies down. If I put on my glasses it isn’t as notice-able. Karen says I shoudl just say that I was in Cancun this weekend. Hmmm.
Once again, hubris gets me in trouble. I decided to go to the Tammy Salon – my new name for the fake bake after being misheard due to my crappy diction – and get in the escape pod (stand up booth) again. I’d gone on Thursday for six minutes and it didn’t do a damn thing. So I go in to the Tammy and this chick is there and the music is blaring and I’m screaming my last name at her so she can look me up in the database – she goes to turn the music down and calls me a jerk. I tell her I want twelve minutes in the space module and she programs the machine and says: ‘Enjoy your cancer.’ I looked her in the eyes and say: ‘Eat my choad you stupid cunt,’ and I got in the tanning booth did my time and then left. Everything was fine until this afternoon when the sunburn began to show. Yikes, y’all. I’m Toasted Andy. I immediately went to Walgreens and I’ve been slathering on Aloe Vera lotion all evening.