Saturday (I don't want to blog about politics) night

Last Saturday I blogged that it was our wedding anniversary and we were going out for tapas at the local, 'all you can eat' tapas restaurant.
I said at the time that the logic of this all you can eat for twelve quid business escaped me, because if you spend a tenner on a meal at the local curry house you can't eat it all.

Anyway, when we got there it was fully booked up. We had to get a takeaway from the local curry house and go home. This was my fault apparently. Something to do with I'm the bloke and I should have booked. Mrs Bucko was unimpressed.

I made a point of booking a table for tonight so we can go again and do it properly, but now I've got the man flu. Any sympathy will be gratefully received. Mrs Bucko said we need to cancel the table and I need to get an early night. I've managed to talk her out of it because I believe in treating colds and flu with booze.

It's annoying to get the man flu right now because I have booked Monday and Tuesday off work to fit our new kitchen units (£155 off ebay. Bargain!). At this rate it looks like I'm going to be ill well into next week. A lot of medication may be required, and I still intend to work on the kitchen. Should be fun.

It's very rare that I get sick. I can normally be around ill people without catching what they've got. It's kids that give me sicknesses, other peoples walking disease bags. I think I've caught this particular bummer off the new scrot sack at work. He was walking around holding his nose in his hand all last week.

I've not taken any time off work in years. The last time I did, it was not down to illness but a self inflicted disaster.

I used to get psoriasis as a teenager. It itched like a bastard and the docs gave me all kinds off smelly creams that never made any difference. Anyone whose had it will know what I'm talking about.

After a few years of suffering from this, someone suggested I use a sunbed as it cleared it up for them. I had four or five fifteen minute sessions in a week at the local tanning shop, and sure enough, it cleared it right up and it never came back. Until last year. I started getting a bit on my shins so I decided to seek out a sunbed shop and blast it again.

This was just at the beginning of summer last year. You remember last summer when we had that one really hot week? It was a bit embarrassing going into a sunbed shop in the hot weather so I just put my head down, asked for fifteen minutes, handed over my cash and went it. When done, I met Mrs Bucko and we went for a few scoops. It wasn't until about eleven o'clock that evening that I started to feel this burning sensation on my thighs. I took my pants off to find that my legs were glowing beetroot red. Mrs Bucko was rolling on the floor gasping for breath she was laughing so hard. I get a lot of sympathy from that woman. By the morning my entire upper body and legs were badly burned and I was in unimaginable pain.

It turns out that modern sunbeds are a lot more powerful than the ones I used years ago. People that use them now, use them for about three minutes, not fifteen. How was I too know :-)

My doctor gave me some kick ass pain killers that were so big I had to push them down my throat with a plunger. They helped take the edge off it a little.

This happened on the Friday and I had to stay off work until the following Thursday because I couldn't get any clothes on. When I go to work naked, people throw rotten veg at me.

It was rather embarrassing phoning in sick and explaining to the gaffer that I had burned myself on a sunbed. When I did get back to work I still couldn't wear a tie so I just wore a casual, loose fitting shirt, not tucked in. I kept shaking the shirt as I walked past people and a cloud of dead skin would drop out of the bottom. There was a white circle of dead skin on the floor around my chair. Not many people bothered me for a few days.

Some people suggested I sue the sunbed shop but I believe in living with the consequences of ones mistakes.

Of course I had to put up with the funny fuckers. Within about an hour of getting into work, four or five different people had said,

"You look tanned mate, have you been away?"

Baked, not fried


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