What fine veins you have

Like some sort of premium cheese.  I am a closet Belgian.

So I went to donate blood today.  Through sickness, dictatorial parents deciding that blood is important during exams, and other engagements, everyone pulled out except Fi and I.  Hmm.  Australia is a country where you are not paid for doing this, so we get to feel good about ourselves.

Well, the people there are very thorough, very friendly, and very efficient.
I have good iron levels, blood pressure, and all of that.  Hooray? I also pass all of the probing questionnaires about drugs, transfusions, illness, man-to-man sex, prostitution, time spent in foreign lands, time spent in Queensland.

The vampire guy … um.  They are all registered nurses, I think, and they are there to bleed you for an excellent cause.  I’m not saying that they consume the blood, oh no.
Anyway, I nominated my left arm, as that is my less used of the two.  I am more comfortable with a thin piece of metal being stuck into that.  After pressure was applied by the armband and I pumped the “foam thing” in my fist for a while, any veins that are theoretically present in my arm were still efficiently stealthed.
So we went to my right arm, where at last, my fine veins were found! They extracted just bit of blood out of me, and then the needle slipped through the vein in question, and flow ceased.  So they stopped.  They will find out my blood type, and that shall probably be all.

“Yes, I have had plenty to drink today.”
-For me.  Some days I do not drink at all, and do not feel thirst.  Sometimes I have 8 glasses of water.  By this time of day, I had had more than usual, but probably less than recommended.  Oh, I’m unhealthy; bicycle commuting and teetotalism aside.
But that is not all: my mother says my veins were very difficult to locate as an infant, when I was submitted to hospital for seizures.

As far as my rambles go, this one was less amusing than I expect of myself.  And I like to think I’m a man with very realistic expectations.  Oh, forgive me for not entertaining you.

I’ll just continue to string you along with not particularly engaging half-stories and the promise of an eventual laugh, and hope for a cult following.  Oh, those would be the driest acolytes ever.

And by this, do not think I am promising either consistency or variation.  We shall see.

Ethics, politics, Little Bear and computer games can wait indefinitely.  I owe these subjects nothing.
NOTHING.

[downward spiral]

Hopefully that is a tag I will be closing soon enough…

In a continued effort to destroy my education and myself, I now have a WordPress account.
I intend to never – or at least very rarely – use it.  But we know how these always work out.

The nefarious Fiona tricked me on here (I’ll blogroll her eventually, once I get over how laggy this website is).  Oh, and the fact that, spontaneously, a lot of people I know seem to be bloggers.  I am such a sheep, but an elitist sheep at least.
I’m not going to trap myself by defining my content; what I’m going to share, if anything at all.  Likewise, who I am, or what style I will use.  Blah blah heroes blah social commentary blah science fiction blah blah crying.

Where I am from,  what I do or don’t believe in, why.  They can wait.  Politics, funny things, blah blah blah.

Most blogs aren’t worth reading.  And there are too many worth reading to actually read (yet they are very difficult to find).  Sturgeon’s Law applies, as per usual.

I have other, better ways to waste my time.
But that’s never stopped me before.