Veins...

Someone called me a vein today. No, not vain…an actual vein...you know, the type that's filled with blood. Yes, that’s a bit different isn't it? It made me smile as it was said by a blokey bloke – you know – big, brawny and would eat barbed wire on a dare then scull 7 bottles of beer and wrestle a croc afterwards with no sign that it was unusual to do. Anyway, it was said as a compliment because without veins the heart and legs don’t function. Isn't that sweet? Call me beautiful? Nah, leave that to the fluffy, useless women. Real women are veins.