Back in the day and once upon a time, a now-ex-girlfriend had developed a whinging tendency to criticize my sensitivity and masculinity. It’s nothing new; I’m certainly not a stereotypical "manly man". There are pre-adolescents taller than I am. Movies make me cry. And it was only by overhearing water-cooler talk at work that I remembered there’s a Superbowl on… what, sometime this month?
I may not build decks and I may have an inherent fear of power tools, but you know what? I can clean, cook and eat sheep organs. And like it. Because it’s good. Especially when the haggis is made with the help and camaraderie of m’ best mate Buckley. Also not a stereotypical manly man. Consider us 2 more reasons stereotypes are bollocks.
Real men make haggis. And they enjoy it. Now excuse me while I cut up these sheep hearts.