The sun pisses me off. Seriously, who da fcuk does the sun think it is? On Sunday morning it was overcast and drizzling with rain, so I was more concerned with putting on my wet weather gear for the ride to the Classic races at Phillip Island, than I was on packing a hat, in the off chance that the lazy arse sun would get off it's arse and actually do it's fcuking job for a change.
Well by the time I got off the trusty GS1000 the sun had come out, and proceeded to roast my face with a vengeance. I considered the possiblity that I could buy a hat there, but none were to be found. That pisses me off too. I've got an excellent "Nolan" (Italian) helmet with a flip front, as as it was such a nice day I rode home, into the sun, with the front flipped up.
My wife, who pisses me off most of the time, was in a real bad mood with me because I brought home a motorcycle for my youngest son the previous day, so she offered no sympathy yesterday as I sat inside like a fcuking vampire because I couldn't go outside in the sun, because my once-beautiful face now looks like an overdone hotdog frank and even the heat from my laptop screen was hurting.
I got a haircut from the slutty MILF hairdresser on base today. Normally I flirt with her and really enjoy her running her fingers through my manly hair, but today I was wimpering like an alter boy because even my fcuking hair follicles are burned! FARK! This year I'm gonna lose heaps of weight, get really fit and run every day, so next year when I forget my hat I'm gonna pinch Pete's hat and he won't be able to catch me! (that'll piss him off.......)
