I sacrificed another pint of blood for the People of Scotland today. Just like the first time, I am not doing it for the common good but only so Gareth can’t outdo me in the Smug and Righteous department.
The room was full of mothers who’d brought their little kids along for some sort of ghoulish entertainment. The wee girl on my left chanted Ten Little Indians over and over again until her Mum had surrendered her pint. Then the little tacker on my right covered her face with her hands, peeking through her fingers from time to time to shriek and gasp dramatically. And then, “Mummy! Get the doctor! YOUR BLOOD’S TURNING GREEN!”.
Unlike last time there were no queues today. Most of the town seemed to be queuing at the fish and chip shop down the road instead. They say only 6% of Scots donate blood. So if 90% of the population were having deep fried shite for tea tonight, how’s there going to be enough juice to revive all those flabby hearts when they finally give out? It just doesn’t add up.