It was such a nice day that we felt compelled to go out. My boyfriend and I packed a huge ol' bottle of water and a bunch of super-expensive frisbees, and we went out for my first round of disc-golf.
I figured, since the game was taking place mostly in a forest, that I'd be okay to wear a halter top. Sure, it's outside, but it's cool and shady and wonderful, right?
Wrong. My shoulders, my upper back, and my cleavage are now a wonderful lobster-red, as is my nose and the skin on the tops of my elbows. There is a six inch wide stripe running down my back where my hair was. Also, I suck at disc-golf.
It was still grand fun, though. Less fun was learning that my boyfriend neither tans nor burns. There is, perhaps, a gentle hint of extra rosiness on his cheeks, but he is otherwise untarnished.
That rat-bastard.
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2 comments:
Disc-golf... hmm, I'm not sure what that is, but if it involves a bunch of hippies running around in Argyle socks, then damnit - count me in.
Super-expensive frisbees? Someone's a genius.
Lobster sticks to magnet...
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