Something nasty occurred on Sunday. My sons had their karate Christmas party at the beach (that’s not nasty). It was 85 fahrenheit at 10am (that’s not too nasty). I filled and tied about 350 waterbomb balloons (my thumbs are raw and tender but that’s not nasty). I put 30+ sunscreen on my face, head, neck, arms and legs (I wore a shirt all day so that’s not nasty).
Here’s where it gets nasty.
I was bending over awkwardly to make the water bombs. This exposed a part of me to the sun that didn’t have sunscreen applied. Ladies and gentlemen, I have severe sunburn in the thong region.
Here’s where the lesson comes from.
This photo shows an Australian thong being worn correctly.
And this photo shows the severely burnt "thong region".
Thus ends today’s lesson on what the word thong means in Australia.
Subject change pending. Transition paragraph ahead.
I went to work Monday and delivered 149 parcels in steel-capped work boots with a foot looking like that. Let me just say that every little grain of sand that ended up in my boot caused the most amazing discomfort.
We’re still talking about differences but this is a different difference. While the Fat Cyclist, Al Maviva and Toad Pizza are talking about the cold, I’m constantly butting in and making snide references to how I’m suffering in my environment.
How’s the weather where you are?
Fortunately for his royal fat sweatiness (me), the first workday of the week only got to 90 fahrenheit according to the Bureau of Meteorology. Of course, inside my vehicle with the doors sealed and locked to keep everyone’s Christmas presents secure, I’m sure it got closer to 120.
If you want to know how hot it was, and how much I sweat, you can do a little biology experiment. From 7am to 4pm I drank 5 litres of water and 2 litres of soft drink. That’s close to 2 US gallons of fluids in 9 hours. During that time and for 2 hours after I did not pee. Every drop of it came out through my skin and then through my shirt and then created a nasty cumulonimbus cloud over my suburb. I’ve just thrown the shirt out in the yard and am trying to decide whether to burn it or just put it in the rubbish as it is and hope it doesn’t eat through the side of the bin before collection day.
My permanent post script.
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