On Sunday I decided to take a little bike ride to the lovely island of Sauvie where hands can pick berries, corn and little worms from the innards of socks. It was a hot day, and as I peddled furiously on melting asphalt, my backskin's hue change from milky white to boiled shrimp in a matter of minutes. Now, each and every time I life my arms, sigh, or turn to the left or right, my skin yelps like a pig mid-beheading. To avoid sunburn, I have decided to wear a full-body flesh suit (similar to those of the family on the right) for the rest of my sunlit days.
